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 Yemen and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Altered Images to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Malaria!,
Adolescents,
Intrusion,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rakim,
Iggy Pop,
Yusef Lateef,
The Tremeloes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Oneida,
Crooked Eye,
The Zeros,
Gang Starr,
Duran Duran,
Kurtis Blow,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick Morgan,
This Heat,
Echospace,
Man Parrish,
June Days,
Mars,
Lalann,
Funkadelic,
Panda Bear,
Model 500,
Depeche Mode,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Interpol,
Little Man,
Bang On A Can,
Smog,
Eric Dolphy,
Saccharine Trust,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Busters,
Pole,
Bobby Byrd,
Aural Exciters,
the Normal,
Delon & Dalcan,
Siglo XX,
Boredoms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Derrick May,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Christie,
Spoonie Gee,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.