Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Cyprus and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Althea and Donna to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Q65. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Inner City,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aural Exciters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Smooth,
Maurizio,
The Kinks,
Joe Finger,
The Remains,
Agent Orange,
Franke,
Nirvana,
Skaos,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Five Americans,
Alton Ellis,
ABC,
Blake Baxter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sugar Minott,
Newcleus,
The J.B.'s,
Surgeon,
Television Personalities,
the Human League,
Donald Byrd,
Marine Girls,
DJ Sneak,
Deakin,
Ponytail,
Animal Collective,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Robert Wyatt,
Nas,
New York Dolls,
Au Pairs,
The Residents,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Juan Atkins,
Arthur Verocai,
Cal Tjader,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Subhumans,
T.S.O.L.,
Essential Logic,
Neu!,
Supertramp,
Minutemen,
Rufus Thomas,
The Raincoats,
In Retrospect,
Faraquet,
Grey Daturas,
Metal Thangz,
Amon Düül,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.