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 Cape Verde and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gladiators to the rap 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
These Immortal Souls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The United States of America,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cal Tjader,
The Neon Judgement,
Eric Copeland,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fela Kuti,
The Sonics,
Judy Mowatt,
The Real Kids,
Kenny Larkin,
R.M.O.,
Desert Stars,
Wally Richardson,
The Buckinghams,
New Order,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Zeros,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Trojans,
The Wake,
Porter Ricks,
Severed Heads,
The Grass Roots,
Silicon Teens,
Ornette Coleman,
Make Up,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alison Limerick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tres Demented,
Whodini,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Archie Shepp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Depeche Mode,
Suburban Knight,
Soul II Soul,
The Invisible,
Erasure,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fugs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fortunes,
Michelle Simonal,
Parry Music,
Danielle Patucci,
Altered Images,
Yusef Lateef,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.