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 Hungary and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Ituana to the punk 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Siglo XX,
Alison Limerick,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nico,
Hot Snakes,
Radiohead,
Bobby Womack,
Fugazi,
Letta Mbulu,
the Germs,
James White and The Blacks,
Amazonics,
The Offenders,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Colin Newman,
Vainqueur,
Brothers Johnson,
Ten City,
The Beau Brummels,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy Collins,
The Electric Prunes,
Connie Case,
Janne Schatter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
Barbara Tucker,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Make Up,
Metal Thangz,
Freddie Wadling,
Sam Rivers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
L. Decosne,
Minny Pops,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lightning Bolt,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gladiators,
Rapeman,
Audionom,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Cale,
Roger Hodgson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Zeros,
Wally Richardson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalann,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mummies,
Bob Dylan,
Kayak,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Mills,
Swell Maps,
Absolute Body Control,
Shuggie Otis,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.