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 Korea North and from Seoul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Pus to the dance 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Wyatt,
Joe Smooth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flipper,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Procol Harum,
The Remains,
Mary Jane Girls,
Royal Trux,
The Residents,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eden Ahbez,
Pharoah Sanders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Michelle Simonal,
Bush Tetras,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Byrd,
Eve St. Jones,
Aaron Thompson,
Fad Gadget,
Visage,
Sight & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Sound,
Silicon Teens,
Intrusion,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monochrome Set,
The Slackers,
Mad Mike,
Lalo Schifrin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans,
Stereo Dub,
Deadbeat,
the Slits,
Max Romeo,
The Tremeloes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Television Personalities,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Trumans Water,
The Black Dice,
The Gories,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed,
Bluetip,
Henry Cow,
Slave,
Steve Hackett,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.