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 Djibouti and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Quadrant,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oneida,
The Neon Judgement,
Aswad,
The Trojans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Tremeloes,
Bill Near,
ABC,
Michelle Simonal,
Girls At Our Best!,
Camberwell Now,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jeff Mills,
The Fortunes,
Quantec,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fugs,
John Foxx,
The Names,
Bauhaus,
Yaz,
John Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Marine Girls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Leaves,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
Severed Heads,
The Kinks,
Gichy Dan,
Rod Modell,
Whodini,
Blossom Toes,
Ken Boothe,
Underground Resistance,
Television,
Pharoah Sanders,
Erasure,
Amon Düül,
Radio Birdman,
Pierre Henry,
Josef K,
Ituana,
Al Stewart,
Schoolly D,
Wire,
The Moleskins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Skriet,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Hood,
Jawbox,
The Doors,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.