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 East Timor and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
LL Cool J,
Crispy Ambulance,
Morten Harket,
Todd Rundgren,
Juan Atkins,
The Litter,
Pantaleimon,
Bob Dylan,
Can,
Gong,
FM Einheit,
The Cowsills,
Alphaville,
Scion,
The Gories,
The Neon Judgement,
Howard Jones,
Yaz,
ABC,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ludus,
Suicide,
the Association,
Marmalade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Monolake,
Clear Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rufus Thomas,
Derrick May,
Lindisfarne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
K-Klass,
The Fuzztones,
China Crisis,
Arab on Radar,
Mandrill,
Circle Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tres Demented,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jandek,
The Detroit Cobras,
Desert Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols,
Matthew Halsall,
Charles Mingus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harmonia,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eve St. Jones,
Bush Tetras,
MC5,
MDC,
Scrapy,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.