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 Zimbabwe and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the disco 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
Ronan,
Camberwell Now,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bob Dylan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Depeche Mode,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tomorrow,
The Mojo Men,
The Gun Club,
Vladislav Delay,
Swans,
Accadde A,
Motorama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Glenn Branca,
Agent Orange,
Bootsy Collins,
PIL,
the Normal,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
the Association,
Robert Hood,
Todd Rundgren,
Cluster,
Surgeon,
JFA,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Cramps,
The Offenders,
Sonic Youth,
The Residents,
In Retrospect,
The Motions,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Sällskapet,
Chris & Cosey,
This Heat,
Joensuu 1685,
Grey Daturas,
Blancmange,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
June Days,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Knickerbockers,
Matthew Bourne,
New Age Steppers,
Fluxion,
Lower 48,
Joe Finger,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.