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 Sudan and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
The Monochrome Set,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Toni Rubio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angry Samoans,
The Kinks,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Offenders,
Janne Schatter,
The Angels of Light,
Television Personalities,
Steve Hackett,
John Foxx,
Eurythmics,
Pantaleimon,
Saccharine Trust,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Music Machine,
Black Moon,
Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Black Pus,
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
The Evens,
Marine Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Grass Roots,
The Motions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bob Dylan,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric Dolphy,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dave Gahan,
Skriet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aloha Tigers,
The Leaves,
Max Romeo,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Five Americans,
Ten City,
John Holt,
the Germs,
Minor Threat,
Main Source,
Robert Wyatt,
The Gap Band,
Pere Ubu,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.