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 Belgium and from Calgary.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ 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 DJ Style to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Urselle,
Shuggie Otis,
The Grass Roots,
The Sonics,
Popol Vuh,
Marcia Griffiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funky Four + One,
The Slits,
Blancmange,
Vainqueur,
The Names,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Moss Icon,
James White and The Blacks,
Brand Nubian,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Wyatt,
Pole,
L. Decosne,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
DJ Sneak,
Heaven 17,
Nirvana,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
China Crisis,
Q65,
Kas Product,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Sherman,
Pere Ubu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Litter,
Yellowson,
LL Cool J,
June of 44,
John Holt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scan 7,
Deakin,
Skaos,
Iggy Pop,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
Funkadelic,
Public Image Ltd.,
Judy Mowatt,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minutemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Davy DMX,
Black Moon,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.