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 Fiji and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Agent Orange to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Delta 5,
Aural Exciters,
Fear,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Swans,
the Association,
Bob Dylan,
Pierre Henry,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Wells,
Underground Resistance,
Heaven 17,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deadbeat,
Accadde A,
Jeru the Damaja,
Iggy Pop,
Hoover,
Mo-Dettes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fall,
Juan Atkins,
New Age Steppers,
Kenny Larkin,
Hashim,
R.M.O.,
John Holt,
Black Flag,
Liliput,
Kaleidoscope,
The Victims,
Crispy Ambulance,
T. Rex,
Quadrant,
Cheater Slicks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gong,
Wings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Beau Brummels,
the Normal,
Kerri Chandler,
Drexciya,
Gichy Dan,
The American Breed,
Harpers Bizarre,
Livin' Joy,
Dual Sessions,
The Pretty Things,
the Soft Cell,
Al Stewart,
Joey Negro,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Anthony Braxton,
Morten Harket,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.