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 Gambia and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 The Litter to the grunge 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
The Residents,
Royal Trux,
Joe Finger,
Minny Pops,
Country Teasers,
Warren Ellis,
The Raincoats,
The Martian,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brass Construction,
F. McDonald,
Cybotron,
Bad Manners,
Sexual Harrassment,
Suicide,
The Standells,
The Smoke,
Max Romeo,
China Crisis,
Interpol,
Motorama,
Sugar Minott,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joey Negro,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Terry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Main Source,
Grey Daturas,
Malaria!,
The Gun Club,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Spandau Ballet,
Scan 7,
Toni Rubio,
Dave Gahan,
The Barracudas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Babytalk,
Roger Hodgson,
The Seeds,
The Misunderstood,
The J.B.'s,
The Fortunes,
Skriet,
Jandek,
Sonic Youth,
June of 44,
Deakin,
Jerry's Kids,
Pagans,
The Litter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ponytail,
Tres Demented,
Goldenarms,
Quadrant,
Steve Hackett,
Severed Heads,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.