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 Turkey and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 Tommy Roe to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Lungfish,
Blake Baxter,
The Misunderstood,
Interpol,
Barrington Levy,
Carl Craig,
Bluetip,
Boredoms,
Ten City,
Cameo,
Guru Guru,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Groovy Waters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
X-Ray Spex,
Icehouse,
The Buckinghams,
John Coltrane,
Neil Young,
Johnny Osbourne,
R.M.O.,
The Smoke,
New Age Steppers,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Parrish,
Bauhaus,
Electric Prunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
K-Klass,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crispian St. Peters,
Charles Mingus,
Smog,
Ultravox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Hill,
Scott Walker,
The Divine Comedy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Yellowson,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Grass Roots,
Archie Shepp,
Main Source,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zero Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Junior Murvin,
The Victims,
Byron Stingily,
Amazonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monks,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.