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 El Salvador and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 The Zeros to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Black Sheep,
Pet Shop Boys,
Blancmange,
Mad Mike,
Alton Ellis,
Chrome,
Absolute Body Control,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Coltrane,
Quantec,
Roy Ayers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
The United States of America,
Quando Quango,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
Brick,
Black Pus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Bananas,
Hot Snakes,
The Red Krayola,
The Modern Lovers,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delon & Dalcan,
MC5,
Darondo,
Pierre Henry,
Roxette,
F. McDonald,
Negative Approach,
Archie Shepp,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Index,
Model 500,
Chris & Cosey,
The Toasters,
Agent Orange,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pere Ubu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flipper,
Arab on Radar,
Arthur Verocai,
Oneida,
Buzzcocks,
Jacques Brel,
Intrusion,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
The Human League,
Patti Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vainqueur,
Marine Girls,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.