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 Jamaica and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Iggy Pop to the rock 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Make Up,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Grauzone,
Sexual Harrassment,
E-Dancer,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Bar-Kays,
Pole,
Niagra,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare,
Mission of Burma,
Eric Copeland,
The Pretty Things,
Mo-Dettes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Severed Heads,
Khruangbin,
Dawn Penn,
Darondo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Henry Cow,
Blancmange,
The Last Poets,
Boz Scaggs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Wyatt,
The Move,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pere Ubu,
Electric Prunes,
Con Funk Shun,
The Offenders,
Bang On A Can,
Sun Ra,
Pierre Henry,
Aswad,
The Velvet Underground,
Procol Harum,
Section 25,
Shuggie Otis,
Adolescents,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cecil Taylor,
Marvin Gaye,
U.S. Maple,
Chris & Cosey,
a-ha,
John Holt,
John Foxx,
Boredoms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Urselle,
Joe Smooth,
Lungfish,
Derrick May,
The United States of America,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.