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 Egypt and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ten City to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lindisfarne,
The Offenders,
Model 500,
Camouflage,
David Axelrod,
Carl Craig,
Trumans Water,
Eric Dolphy,
Mark Hollis,
Dave Gahan,
Moebius,
The Shadows of Knight,
Excepter,
Junior Murvin,
The Monochrome Set,
Ken Boothe,
Kas Product,
Sixth Finger,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
48th St. Collective,
Ultravox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scion,
Suburban Knight,
The Move,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
R.M.O.,
The Sound,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
Young Marble Giants,
Fatback Band,
Buzzcocks,
Skarface,
Youth Brigade,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
Television,
Adolescents,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers,
Grauzone,
Pagans,
The Skatalites,
Throbbing Gristle,
Derrick Morgan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lyres,
Marmalade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
Oblivians,
Sandy B,
The Associates,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Von Mondo,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.