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 Croatia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Subhumans to the grime 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Sam Rivers,
The Walker Brothers,
Prince Buster,
OOIOO,
The Evens,
Youth Brigade,
MDC,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacques Brel,
Pagans,
Kurtis Blow,
Nils Olav,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Osbourne,
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Rufus Thomas,
Siglo XX,
Graham Central Station,
The Electric Prunes,
Johnny Clarke,
The Black Dice,
Sparks,
The Dead C,
Con Funk Shun,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joey Negro,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers,
Tres Demented,
Colin Newman,
Main Source,
Joe Smooth,
The Fugs,
Gong,
Jeff Mills,
Monks,
Scan 7,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rapeman,
Erasure,
Cluster,
the Bar-Kays,
Roxette,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yellowson,
Oneida,
Tim Buckley,
Darondo,
Bluetip,
Ituana,
Dave Gahan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Glenn Branca,
Ronnie Foster,
Sonic Youth,
Alison Limerick,
Neu!,
Joensuu 1685,
Scientists,
Dennis Brown,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.