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 Madagascar and from Milan.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Lindisfarne 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Barracudas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Accadde A,
Tubeway Army,
H. Thieme,
The Trojans,
Gabor Szabo,
Prince Buster,
The Victims,
Livin' Joy,
Lalann,
the Soft Cell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Buckinghams,
Scientists,
The Invisible,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fire Engines,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mo-Dettes,
the Human League,
In Retrospect,
Popol Vuh,
Jacob Miller,
the Bar-Kays,
Flipper,
Essential Logic,
Marvin Gaye,
Aural Exciters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pere Ubu,
Boz Scaggs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yaz,
Au Pairs,
Albert Ayler,
The Offenders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Das Ding,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Unwound,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeff Mills,
Alton Ellis,
Boredoms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Animal Collective,
Josef K,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Underground Resistance,
Radiohead,
EPMD,
Q and Not U,
Duran Duran,
Tom Boy,
The Evens,
Robert Görl,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.