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 Malta and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Depeche Mode to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Moby Grape,
Roxette,
Yellowson,
Dawn Penn,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fall,
Johnny Clarke,
Jerry's Kids,
Crispy Ambulance,
Boogie Down Productions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Patti Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Normal,
Soft Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
Donald Byrd,
U.S. Maple,
Isaac Hayes,
Youth Brigade,
Maurizio,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Style,
Eli Mardock,
Q and Not U,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Popol Vuh,
Trumans Water,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Toni Rubio,
Blancmange,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ossler,
The Dirtbombs,
Brothers Johnson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joy Division,
Slave,
The Barracudas,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Hill,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T. Rex,
Ludus,
A Certain Ratio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
H. Thieme,
Aural Exciters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeff Lynne,
Mary Jane Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
F. McDonald,
Joyce Sims,
Delta 5,
The Names,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.