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 Djibouti and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Pussy Galore to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Byrd,
Suburban Knight,
Ohio Players,
Echospace,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smoke,
China Crisis,
Rapeman,
Deadbeat,
the Bar-Kays,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Warren Ellis,
Barry Ungar,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Coltrane,
Hashim,
World's Most,
The Buckinghams,
Ken Boothe,
Neu!,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Fania All-Stars,
Girls At Our Best!,
New York Dolls,
Talk Talk,
The Velvet Underground,
The Invisible,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun City Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Harmonia,
Organ,
Man Parrish,
48th St. Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
KRS-One,
Black Moon,
Rites of Spring,
Marine Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Banda Bassotti,
Althea and Donna,
Tom Boy,
Nirvana,
Wire,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minnie Riperton,
cv313,
Nik Kershaw,
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson,
LL Cool J,
Swans,
MC5,
Saccharine Trust,
Magma,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.