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 San Marino and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the güiro 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 Roger Hodgson to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The American Breed,
Circle Jerks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quantec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lower 48,
Crash Course in Science,
Negative Approach,
Fat Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Little Man,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Henry Cow,
Bluetip,
The Gap Band,
Tom Boy,
Whodini,
The Dirtbombs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Monks,
Swans,
Liliput,
Stetsasonic,
Nick Fraelich,
Ultra Naté,
Arthur Verocai,
Pulsallama,
UT,
The United States of America,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
U.S. Maple,
June Days,
Deepchord,
Joyce Sims,
Radio Birdman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
Oneida,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Basic Channel,
Joey Negro,
Moby Grape,
Chris & Cosey,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fall,
The Fugs,
Alphaville,
Dave Gahan,
Depeche Mode,
Jawbox,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Warsaw,
The Moody Blues,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skaos,
Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Görl,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.