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 St Lucia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 Niagra to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Starr,
The Angels of Light,
Monks,
Organ,
Delta 5,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DNA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
Kayak,
Lakeside,
Ronnie Foster,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Accadde A,
CMW,
Silicon Teens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soulsonic Force,
Banda Bassotti,
Easy Going,
Harpers Bizarre,
Josef K,
Bobby Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Toni Rubio,
The Slackers,
Youth Brigade,
The Selecter,
Depeche Mode,
Lalann,
Harmonia,
LL Cool J,
Dual Sessions,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Seeds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pantytec,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Saints,
Alice Coltrane,
Trumans Water,
10cc,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
The Move,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lightning Bolt,
Massinfluence,
June of 44,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Interpol,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.