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 Syria and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jandek to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Echospace,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
Siglo XX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nas,
Circle Jerks,
Smog,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
The Remains,
Sixth Finger,
Massinfluence,
Maurizio,
Royal Trux,
Faraquet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Section 25,
Intrusion,
John Holt,
Babytalk,
June of 44,
Eden Ahbez,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül,
the Slits,
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai,
David Bowie,
Depeche Mode,
Lee Hazlewood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kurtis Blow,
Slave,
Yazoo,
Adolescents,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hasil Adkins,
The Grass Roots,
Bob Dylan,
Porter Ricks,
Slick Rick,
Boz Scaggs,
Neu!,
Radiohead,
Todd Terry,
Rod Modell,
Colin Newman,
Freddie Wadling,
Theoretical Girls,
Pagans,
The Seeds,
Gabor Szabo,
Con Funk Shun,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Metal Thangz,
AZ,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Durutti Column,
Arab on Radar,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.