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 Angola and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Chris & Cosey to the funk 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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Electric Prunes,
Steve Hackett,
The Martian,
Al Stewart,
The Flesh Eaters,
Buzzcocks,
Saccharine Trust,
China Crisis,
The New Christs,
Magma,
Reagan Youth,
Average White Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blake Baxter,
Circle Jerks,
The Velvet Underground,
Warsaw,
Blossom Toes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arthur Verocai,
Rosa Yemen,
Janne Schatter,
A Certain Ratio,
Thompson Twins,
Pagans,
Pierre Henry,
Sam Rivers,
Bang On A Can,
Gang of Four,
Black Pus,
E-Dancer,
Gong,
PIL,
kango's stein massive,
Dead Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Organ,
Skarface,
Jawbox,
Tom Boy,
The Slits,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Pop Group,
The Residents,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Bar-Kays,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Interpol,
Sugar Minott,
Shuggie Otis,
Jacques Brel,
Y Pants,
Severed Heads,
Harry Pussy,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.