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 Venezuela and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar 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 Mary Jane Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Half Japanese,
Mandrill,
The Pop Group,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Dead Boys,
Soulsonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
New Order,
Funkadelic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cybotron,
Roxy Music,
The Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
Simply Red,
Boredoms,
Desert Stars,
Marc Almond,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bill Near,
Q and Not U,
Jacob Miller,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Busters,
Idris Muhammad,
a-ha,
Surgeon,
Ronnie Foster,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tubeway Army,
Crispy Ambulance,
New Age Steppers,
Joe Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sight & Sound,
Janne Schatter,
Anthony Braxton,
Sister Nancy,
Kenny Larkin,
Brick,
Schoolly D,
Amon Düül II,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jandek,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rod Modell,
The Buckinghams,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Golliwogs,
Judy Mowatt,
The Move,
The J.B.'s,
D'Angelo,
Agent Orange,
Skarface,
The Residents,
Sugar Minott,
Maurizio,
Arab on Radar,
John Holt,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.