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 El Salvador and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 The Kinks to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Skriet,
Quadrant,
Drexciya,
Alison Limerick,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warsaw,
Scion,
Steve Hackett,
The Buckinghams,
Royal Trux,
The American Breed,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
Jerry's Kids,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eli Mardock,
Kool Moe Dee,
This Heat,
Organ,
Skarface,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
Theoretical Girls,
The Kinks,
Guru Guru,
Kas Product,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter & Gordon,
Sandy B,
8 Eyed Spy,
David Axelrod,
Jeff Lynne,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Max Romeo,
Lalann,
Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Henry Cow,
Prince Buster,
The Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
Thompson Twins,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minutemen,
Marine Girls,
Deadbeat,
Dark Day,
Aural Exciters,
Dawn Penn,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minny Pops,
Adolescents,
Echospace,
The Cure,
Althea and Donna,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.