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 Philippines and from Lagos.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Magma to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Associates,
The Moody Blues,
Amazonics,
The Dirtbombs,
Kas Product,
The Last Poets,
The Selecter,
Rites of Spring,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonic Youth,
Janne Schatter,
Todd Rundgren,
David Axelrod,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Maleditus Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Erasure,
Bad Manners,
Lindisfarne,
The Fuzztones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Real Kids,
Fluxion,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Foxx,
The Saints,
Pagans,
Jeff Mills,
Glambeats Corp.,
Guru Guru,
Brass Construction,
Prince Buster,
Basic Channel,
Mars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Darondo,
Pussy Galore,
Franke,
Goldenarms,
Urselle,
Matthew Bourne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Leonard Cohen,
John Cale,
Tres Demented,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Al Stewart,
Alphaville,
Joey Negro,
Colin Newman,
Cheater Slicks,
Wings,
Los Fastidios,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.