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 Kiribati and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Oblivians 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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Essential Logic,
Tommy Roe,
Y Pants,
Nation of Ulysses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Q65,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chrome,
Blake Baxter,
Japan,
John Coltrane,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doors,
Harmonia,
Dark Day,
Neu!,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sugar Minott,
Soulsonic Force,
Josef K,
Minutemen,
Max Romeo,
Niagra,
Radiohead,
The New Christs,
Andrew Hill,
Howard Jones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scott Walker,
R.M.O.,
the Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Camouflage,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Lydon,
Hasil Adkins,
David Bowie,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Last Poets,
Tubeway Army,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cramps,
Faraquet,
Slick Rick,
La Düsseldorf,
Girls At Our Best!,
Iggy Pop,
Altered Images,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Newcleus,
Supertramp,
Stiv Bators,
The American Breed,
Lungfish,
The Barracudas,
Slave,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
Wings,
Grandmaster Flash,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.