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 Solomon Islands and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fortunes to the rock 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Archie Shepp,
The Selecter,
Davy DMX,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang On A Can,
Mark Hollis,
The Motions,
Boredoms,
John Foxx,
The Searchers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
Surgeon,
Chris & Cosey,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eddi Front,
Los Fastidios,
Minor Threat,
Wire,
Althea and Donna,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
Cymande,
Lalann,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Slits,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Leaves,
The Names,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arcadia,
Q and Not U,
Drexciya,
Eden Ahbez,
The Tremeloes,
Sällskapet,
Stetsasonic,
The Techniques,
Aural Exciters,
Man Parrish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris Corsano,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantaleimon,
Fat Boys,
The Raincoats,
Marmalade,
Camouflage,
Depeche Mode,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
Masters at Work,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mojo Men,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.