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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Boredoms to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young,
The Smiths,
the Swans,
Toni Rubio,
The Raincoats,
Brand Nubian,
Bluetip,
Amon Düül II,
Gichy Dan,
The Offenders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
New Age Steppers,
Royal Trux,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lakeside,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Symarip,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Martian,
DJ Sneak,
Derrick Morgan,
In Retrospect,
The Last Poets,
Agitation Free,
PIL,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Normal,
Todd Terry,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Green,
Wings,
Gong,
Freddie Wadling,
Fear,
Duran Duran,
Popol Vuh,
The Move,
Bobby Womack,
Arab on Radar,
Dennis Brown,
Section 25,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bronski Beat,
The Invisible,
a-ha,
Public Enemy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tommy Roe,
Eli Mardock,
Intrusion,
Brick,
Joe Smooth,
The Motions,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blake Baxter,
Bad Manners,
Joyce Sims,
Dual Sessions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.