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 Turkmenistan and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the funk 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
Delta 5,
The Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Colin Newman,
Yaz,
Oneida,
48th St. Collective,
Harpers Bizarre,
Groovy Waters,
ABC,
Outsiders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Parrish,
Stereo Dub,
John Holt,
Eli Mardock,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacob Miller,
The Fortunes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mummies,
This Heat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
Derrick May,
The Mojo Men,
Michelle Simonal,
Tim Buckley,
Monolake,
Mad Mike,
Newcleus,
John Foxx,
Qualms,
Rapeman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David Axelrod,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kayak,
Hoover,
Severed Heads,
Stetsasonic,
Shuggie Otis,
Monks,
The Saints,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Angels of Light,
The Fire Engines,
Gang Green,
Maurizio,
Icehouse,
a-ha,
Unrelated Segments,
Gregory Isaacs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.