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 Malawi and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Association to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Lyres,
June of 44,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pylon,
Grandmaster Flash,
cv313,
Maleditus Sound,
Derrick May,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Adolescents,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Womack,
Johnny Osbourne,
Alison Limerick,
Suicide,
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls,
Albert Ayler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stiv Bators,
Mark Hollis,
Echospace,
The Durutti Column,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Warsaw,
Ice-T,
John Cale,
The Fire Engines,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magazine,
Wasted Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Heaven 17,
Amazonics,
Clear Light,
Rosa Yemen,
DNA,
Pantytec,
Sixth Finger,
EPMD,
Black Bananas,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Copeland,
The Martian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eddi Front,
Slick Rick,
Black Flag,
PIL,
The Knickerbockers,
Joyce Sims,
Eve St. Jones,
H. Thieme,
The Selecter,
Sister Nancy,
Shuggie Otis,
Wings,
Robert Görl,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.