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 Korea South and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Harry Pussy to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
Monks,
This Heat,
Bad Manners,
Susan Cadogan,
Deepchord,
Aural Exciters,
Half Japanese,
The Raincoats,
The Vogues,
Basic Channel,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Byrd,
Gong,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
Hasil Adkins,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Interpol,
These Immortal Souls,
ABC,
Fugazi,
Lyres,
Todd Terry,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Angels of Light,
Janne Schatter,
Eden Ahbez,
Chris & Cosey,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Divine Comedy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Heaven 17,
Darondo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sarah Menescal,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funky Four + One,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Severed Heads,
Drexciya,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amon Düül II,
The Fire Engines,
Fear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shoche,
Alice Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
Siglo XX,
The Remains,
Jerry's Kids,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.