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 Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Alton Ellis,
Massinfluence,
The Knickerbockers,
Byron Stingily,
Black Sheep,
Echospace,
Chrome,
Erykah Badu,
The Golliwogs,
Adolescents,
CMW,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Radio Birdman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slits,
10cc,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Motions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Germs,
The Blues Magoos,
Deadbeat,
Procol Harum,
Intrusion,
Gabor Szabo,
Minny Pops,
Los Fastidios,
The Divine Comedy,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang of Four,
Audionom,
The Gladiators,
Donald Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
The Happenings,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Visage,
Flamin' Groovies,
Quadrant,
the Slits,
Second Layer,
Ludus,
Albert Ayler,
Flash Fearless,
Can,
Jeff Lynne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deakin,
Swell Maps,
David Bowie,
Sam Rivers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Music Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.