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 South Africa and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Black Dice to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
T.S.O.L.,
Maurizio,
Amon Düül II,
Scratch Acid,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eurythmics,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angry Samoans,
Pierre Henry,
Crime,
The Fugs,
the Swans,
B.T. Express,
Alison Limerick,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soft Machine,
Theoretical Girls,
The Red Krayola,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick Morgan,
The American Breed,
Eden Ahbez,
Deepchord,
Sun City Girls,
The Invisible,
New York Dolls,
Country Teasers,
Sex Pistols,
Amon Düül,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Saints,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Hood,
Los Fastidios,
Gabor Szabo,
Connie Case,
The Searchers,
Anakelly,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Barracudas,
Gichy Dan,
John Cale,
The Count Five,
Fat Boys,
AZ,
Unrelated Segments,
Idris Muhammad,
Supertramp,
June Days,
Ultravox,
The Cure,
Lakeside,
Lightning Bolt,
Cal Tjader,
Joe Smooth,
Hoover,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.