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 Sierra Leone 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Blues Magoos to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Monolake,
the Bar-Kays,
The Saints,
Byron Stingily,
Spandau Ballet,
LL Cool J,
Tubeway Army,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronnie Foster,
The Invisible,
Steve Hackett,
Vladislav Delay,
Marmalade,
DJ Sneak,
Minnie Riperton,
Quando Quango,
Hoover,
The Angels of Light,
Youth Brigade,
Alphaville,
Peter and Kerry,
Cybotron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
L. Decosne,
Deakin,
Flipper,
Bill Wells,
Sällskapet,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Trojans,
Fela Kuti,
Public Enemy,
Barrington Levy,
The Fugs,
Dead Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Toni Rubio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Albert Ayler,
Joyce Sims,
This Heat,
Scan 7,
Tropical Tobacco,
E-Dancer,
Swell Maps,
Harry Pussy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Graham Central Station,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hot Snakes,
The Litter,
The Smiths,
Roger Hodgson,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.