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 Somalia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Theoretical Girls to the grunge 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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marvin Gaye,
Unwound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Barracudas,
Simply Red,
Sixth Finger,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soft Machine,
June Days,
Bill Wells,
Royal Trux,
Gang Gang Dance,
Con Funk Shun,
Pierre Henry,
Cheater Slicks,
Judy Mowatt,
Smog,
The Fall,
The United States of America,
Ultimate Spinach,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Mummies,
Stiv Bators,
Lucky Dragons,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Womack,
Black Moon,
Warren Ellis,
Essential Logic,
The Seeds,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Smiths,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Camouflage,
David Bowie,
Von Mondo,
The Moody Blues,
Arcadia,
Jeff Mills,
Pussy Galore,
The Count Five,
The Last Poets,
Echospace,
John Cale,
Delta 5,
Archie Shepp,
Bill Near,
The Real Kids,
Skaos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lindisfarne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Country Teasers,
New York Dolls,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.