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 South Africa and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Stooges to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Sällskapet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Last Poets,
Pagans,
The Sound,
Popol Vuh,
OOIOO,
The Offenders,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Amazonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Junior Murvin,
Porter Ricks,
Pantaleimon,
The Modern Lovers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Lydon,
The Electric Prunes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultra Naté,
Kerri Chandler,
the Swans,
Zapp,
Ludus,
Underground Resistance,
Drexciya,
The Raincoats,
Jerry's Kids,
Barrington Levy,
Dead Boys,
Fear,
Yellowson,
John Coltrane,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Brand Nubian,
Yazoo,
The Blues Magoos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Whodini,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sight & Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
Khruangbin,
Ossler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fuzztones,
Con Funk Shun,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rapeman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Darondo,
Wings,
Rosa Yemen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.