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 Belgium and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fatback Band to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Y Pants,
Rites of Spring,
Gong,
Sällskapet,
Lower 48,
The Cure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Count Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Suicide,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bauhaus,
Black Moon,
PIL,
Toni Rubio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stetsasonic,
Slave,
Chrome,
The Toasters,
Schoolly D,
The Misunderstood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Godley & Creme,
Banda Bassotti,
The Remains,
FM Einheit,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
L. Decosne,
Technova,
Desert Stars,
Henry Cow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Angry Samoans,
Sixth Finger,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tom Boy,
DJ Style,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Flipper,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Moss Icon,
Soft Machine,
Icehouse,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swell Maps,
Fela Kuti,
Q65,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aloha Tigers,
Gichy Dan,
The Blackbyrds,
Barry Ungar,
Janne Schatter,
The Martian,
Roxette,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Graham Central Station,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Faraquet,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.