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 Barbados and from Copenhagen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the techno 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Starr,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Donny Hathaway,
Ohio Players,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kurtis Blow,
Excepter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül,
Rakim,
The Count Five,
The Birthday Party,
the Swans,
Dead Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
H. Thieme,
Skaos,
the Soft Cell,
E-Dancer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Durutti Column,
Blake Baxter,
Sun City Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Hood,
The Slackers,
The Walker Brothers,
Goldenarms,
Ten City,
Flipper,
Todd Terry,
Soft Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Sun Ra,
Interpol,
Brick,
X-101,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Searchers,
Youth Brigade,
Silicon Teens,
Magma,
Intrusion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris & Cosey,
10cc,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Residents,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.