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 Cuba and from Seoul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Mad Mike to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Minor Threat,
Colin Newman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donald Byrd,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kool Moe Dee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Radiohead,
T.S.O.L.,
Sarah Menescal,
Babytalk,
Lower 48,
The Moleskins,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pagans,
Easy Going,
The United States of America,
Cybotron,
Moebius,
The Fall,
Ronan,
Sixth Finger,
Dead Boys,
Intrusion,
Franke,
Schoolly D,
AZ,
David McCallum,
Brand Nubian,
Liliput,
Rapeman,
The Blackbyrds,
Reuben Wilson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Slave,
Erykah Badu,
The Gap Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pulsallama,
Cabaret Voltaire,
New Age Steppers,
Blake Baxter,
Derrick May,
Quantec,
Warsaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mo-Dettes,
Rites of Spring,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Erasure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
Depeche Mode,
Index,
Toni Rubio,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.