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 Ukraine and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Aaron Thompson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Trumans Water,
The Sound,
Tears for Fears,
Monolake,
Hoover,
Amon Düül II,
The Pop Group,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sarah Menescal,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronnie Foster,
Pylon,
Alphaville,
Gang Green,
Talk Talk,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joyce Sims,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Morten Harket,
Mr. Review,
Hardrive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Godley & Creme,
The Happenings,
Metal Thangz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Colin Newman,
Jacques Brel,
The Kinks,
Los Fastidios,
Sam Rivers,
John Holt,
Wings,
New York Dolls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Symarip,
Thee Headcoats,
Mission of Burma,
Flipper,
EPMD,
Pere Ubu,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Techniques,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Knickerbockers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Popol Vuh,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crash Course in Science,
Cal Tjader,
Franke,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Janne Schatter,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.