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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Crash Course in Science to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Deadbeat,
Rufus Thomas,
Main Source,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Steve Hackett,
Procol Harum,
Bluetip,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Niagra,
Gong,
The Move,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultra Naté,
The Litter,
Severed Heads,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cymande,
Smog,
Lalann,
Shoche,
Sandy B,
The Residents,
Archie Shepp,
Lungfish,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Letta Mbulu,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Leaves,
Mandrill,
the Soft Cell,
Bizarre Inc.,
The New Christs,
Gang Green,
Pharoah Sanders,
Darondo,
Eric Copeland,
Camouflage,
Joe Finger,
The Kinks,
Marine Girls,
Panda Bear,
Joensuu 1685,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Unrelated Segments,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eden Ahbez,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sonics,
Matthew Halsall,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sex Pistols,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.