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 Bangladesh and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 Black Flag to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Rod Modell,
Zero Boys,
John Foxx,
Masters at Work,
Hashim,
Eve St. Jones,
The Seeds,
The United States of America,
The Techniques,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grauzone,
Funky Four + One,
Organ,
Archie Shepp,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deepchord,
The Five Americans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Japan,
The Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Misunderstood,
U.S. Maple,
Faust,
X-101,
10cc,
The Barracudas,
The Standells,
The Stooges,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Don Cherry,
Amon Düül,
Sex Pistols,
Popol Vuh,
Brick,
Delta 5,
Marvin Gaye,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Goldenarms,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dave Gahan,
Excepter,
Malaria!,
The Cramps,
T.S.O.L.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New Order,
FM Einheit,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stiv Bators,
ABBA,
The Blackbyrds,
Juan Atkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.