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 Madagascar and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tubeway Army to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pulsallama,
The Skatalites,
Patti Smith,
The Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Chrome,
Loose Ends,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barrington Levy,
The Gladiators,
Wire,
Roxette,
Amazonics,
The Star Department,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronan,
Judy Mowatt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cybotron,
Funky Four + One,
Swans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
Eve St. Jones,
FM Einheit,
Zapp,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Machine,
Nirvana,
Spoonie Gee,
Maurizio,
Magma,
The Last Poets,
The Real Kids,
Pierre Henry,
Traffic Nightmare,
R.M.O.,
Livin' Joy,
The Detroit Cobras,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barry Ungar,
the Soft Cell,
The J.B.'s,
Scott Walker,
The Fall,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Circle Jerks,
Mars,
The Birthday Party,
Deepchord,
Erykah Badu,
Hoover,
The Leaves,
The Pretty Things,
Anakelly,
The Knickerbockers,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.