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 Niger and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Suicide to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
The Seeds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Urselle,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Talk Talk,
Stetsasonic,
The Golliwogs,
The Residents,
The Star Department,
Drexciya,
Absolute Body Control,
Oneida,
Alison Limerick,
Eli Mardock,
Chrome,
Cameo,
the Human League,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Byron Stingily,
In Retrospect,
The Blackbyrds,
The Evens,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Slackers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harmonia,
The Motions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yazoo,
Chris Corsano,
Lou Christie,
Arab on Radar,
Mad Mike,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Moleskins,
The Martian,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yellowson,
The Cowsills,
One Last Wish,
Eric Copeland,
Flipper,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wally Richardson,
Fat Boys,
Jandek,
Leonard Cohen,
Scratch Acid,
The Gories,
Youth Brigade,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fuzztones,
Accadde A,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
MDC,
Pantaleimon,
Don Cherry,
Los Fastidios,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.