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 Djibouti and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 David Axelrod to the disco 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Ludus,
Graham Central Station,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Human League,
The Doors,
The Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Shoche,
Bizarre Inc.,
Morten Harket,
Inner City,
The American Breed,
Sight & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Sparks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
MC5,
Unrelated Segments,
Neil Young,
The Techniques,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Red Krayola,
U.S. Maple,
Eurythmics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nirvana,
James White and The Blacks,
OOIOO,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quando Quango,
Kayak,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fatback Band,
Man Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flash Fearless,
The Index,
Cecil Taylor,
Mad Mike,
F. McDonald,
Lower 48,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eric Copeland,
Alton Ellis,
Lakeside,
Cymande,
Boredoms,
Jawbox,
Marvin Gaye,
Interpol,
Monks,
The Skatalites,
This Heat,
Clear Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
World's Most,
Ultra Naté,
Charles Mingus,
The Angels of Light,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.