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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 a-ha to the rock 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Funkadelic,
The Wake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nas,
Marc Almond,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alton Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
Pole,
Tres Demented,
The Neon Judgement,
Anakelly,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fear,
The Smoke,
Cybotron,
Henry Cow,
Howard Jones,
The Gun Club,
DNA,
Babytalk,
Moebius,
Unrelated Segments,
Stiv Bators,
Symarip,
Make Up,
The Searchers,
The Fire Engines,
Organ,
The Durutti Column,
Rod Modell,
the Normal,
Ituana,
Circle Jerks,
Iggy Pop,
Crime,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nico,
Monolake,
Eden Ahbez,
Radio Birdman,
Carl Craig,
Fat Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scott Walker,
Blake Baxter,
Livin' Joy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeff Lynne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Gang of Four,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
La Düsseldorf,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.