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 Samoa and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Neil Young to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Fluxion,
The Beau Brummels,
Alice Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Magazine,
The J.B.'s,
Fatback Band,
The Cramps,
Little Man,
Brick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rapeman,
Marc Almond,
Quantec,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Arab on Radar,
Gong,
Banda Bassotti,
Michelle Simonal,
Ludus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ponytail,
Letta Mbulu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Aswad,
Tim Buckley,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare,
Unrelated Segments,
The Motions,
Grey Daturas,
Deakin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glenn Branca,
Johnny Osbourne,
Chrome,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Groovy Waters,
Panda Bear,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cybotron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ossler,
Grandmaster Flash,
Make Up,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Techniques,
Minnie Riperton,
Y Pants,
Connie Case,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joe Smooth,
Marmalade,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.