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 Russia and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Donald Byrd to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Freddie Wadling,
Sound Behaviour,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ponytail,
Suburban Knight,
Scrapy,
The Skatalites,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Michelle Simonal,
Sam Rivers,
Duran Duran,
Bobbi Humphrey,
AZ,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
These Immortal Souls,
Outsiders,
Robert Wyatt,
Shoche,
Sun Ra,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scion,
Monks,
Eddi Front,
Buzzcocks,
Godley & Creme,
Gabor Szabo,
The Beau Brummels,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Panda Bear,
Scientists,
David Bowie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oblivians,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alice Coltrane,
Henry Cow,
Harry Pussy,
Moss Icon,
New Age Steppers,
Nick Fraelich,
Warren Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
Joe Smooth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fluxion,
Flamin' Groovies,
D'Angelo,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Doors,
The Fugs,
Gang of Four,
Rod Modell,
Ornette Coleman,
the Slits,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stiv Bators,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.