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 Congo and from Cairo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Buzzcocks to the techno 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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
The Motions,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fatback Band,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monochrome Set,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Womack,
Slave,
Loose Ends,
Radiohead,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lungfish,
Mars,
Crooked Eye,
cv313,
Schoolly D,
Danielle Patucci,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dennis Brown,
Theoretical Girls,
Morten Harket,
Radio Birdman,
Sixth Finger,
Ponytail,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Darondo,
Cybotron,
Deakin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Invisible,
Rod Modell,
Max Romeo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Görl,
Marc Almond,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Count Five,
Laurel Aitken,
Rotary Connection,
Little Man,
Anthony Braxton,
Yellowson,
Minny Pops,
Whodini,
Gastr Del Sol,
Donald Byrd,
Make Up,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.