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 Afghanistan and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Reuben Wilson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cheater Slicks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Loose Ends,
The Names,
Bronski Beat,
Maurizio,
Joyce Sims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
Graham Central Station,
the Swans,
Hoover,
Circle Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry's Kids,
Piero Umiliani,
Max Romeo,
Warsaw,
L. Decosne,
Thee Headcoats,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Procol Harum,
Josef K,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bill Near,
Lebanon Hanover,
June Days,
Con Funk Shun,
Zapp,
Matthew Halsall,
Althea and Donna,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Angels of Light,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Steve Hackett,
Robert Wyatt,
Babytalk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mo-Dettes,
The Five Americans,
The Saints,
Rapeman,
Brick,
Hardrive,
The Human League,
Essential Logic,
Youth Brigade,
Lightning Bolt,
Q65,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Red Krayola,
X-101,
Radiopuhelimet,
Letta Mbulu,
The Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Dennis Brown,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.