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 Argentina and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
The Young Rascals,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eddi Front,
Maleditus Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
The Doors,
JFA,
Todd Terry,
Yazoo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lalo Schifrin,
Morten Harket,
The Remains,
Bobby Womack,
The Selecter,
Crash Course in Science,
Laurel Aitken,
Liliput,
Soul II Soul,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Vogues,
John Foxx,
Roy Ayers,
Monks,
Section 25,
Oneida,
Public Image Ltd.,
Animal Collective,
Black Sheep,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Electric Prunes,
John Cale,
Los Fastidios,
Scion,
Spoonie Gee,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fugazi,
Stiv Bators,
The Gun Club,
Pantytec,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gabor Szabo,
Popol Vuh,
Lalann,
Alice Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
AZ,
Donald Byrd,
R.M.O.,
Subhumans,
Siglo XX,
Zapp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Sherman,
The Smoke,
Fat Boys,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bush Tetras,
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.