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 Indonesia and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Eden Ahbez,
Agitation Free,
Joe Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lyres,
Peter and Kerry,
Fatback Band,
The Gun Club,
Arcadia,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Angels of Light,
Franke,
Saccharine Trust,
Los Fastidios,
Cecil Taylor,
Au Pairs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacob Miller,
F. McDonald,
Marc Almond,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Das Ding,
Metal Thangz,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mojo Men,
R.M.O.,
The Blackbyrds,
Maurizio,
The Music Machine,
ABBA,
Rekid,
Livin' Joy,
Kas Product,
the Soft Cell,
Rosa Yemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cheater Slicks,
Half Japanese,
Nik Kershaw,
Ponytail,
China Crisis,
Faraquet,
D'Angelo,
Slick Rick,
Country Teasers,
Slave,
The Walker Brothers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Anthony Braxton,
Blancmange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cluster,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.