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 Kuwait and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 LL Cool J to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Theoretical Girls,
Siglo XX,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
Tom Boy,
Khruangbin,
Drexciya,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arcadia,
Country Teasers,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Busters,
Unwound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Loose Ends,
Funky Four + One,
The Tremeloes,
KRS-One,
Joy Division,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joe Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DJ Sneak,
Babytalk,
Au Pairs,
John Lydon,
The Names,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donny Hathaway,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deakin,
Japan,
Heaven 17,
Sam Rivers,
Electric Prunes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Althea and Donna,
Banda Bassotti,
The Moody Blues,
Tropical Tobacco,
Delta 5,
Rapeman,
Lalo Schifrin,
Blancmange,
Fela Kuti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Newcleus,
Metal Thangz,
Faust,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deadbeat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scrapy,
The Fugs,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.