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 United Kingdom and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 48th St. Collective to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Steve Hackett,
Wolf Eyes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Slits,
Scion,
The Divine Comedy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
The Offenders,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cramps,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grey Daturas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Prince Buster,
The Index,
Joyce Sims,
The Motions,
Thee Headcoats,
Camberwell Now,
Lungfish,
Gichy Dan,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Throbbing Gristle,
Smog,
Arcadia,
Ken Boothe,
Technova,
Bobby Sherman,
The Vogues,
Toni Rubio,
Youth Brigade,
Flash Fearless,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed,
Jerry's Kids,
Nick Fraelich,
The Count Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang of Four,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
One Last Wish,
D'Angelo,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABC,
Neil Young,
Con Funk Shun,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
Brick,
8 Eyed Spy,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.