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 Burkina and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin 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 Black Sheep to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shoche,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kerri Chandler,
Average White Band,
Electric Prunes,
La Düsseldorf,
Ludus,
Cameo,
The Blackbyrds,
DNA,
Robert Görl,
Spoonie Gee,
The Last Poets,
Malaria!,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
Siglo XX,
The Fortunes,
Circle Jerks,
The Mummies,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mo-Dettes,
The Pretty Things,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Bananas,
Derrick May,
Sun City Girls,
Adolescents,
Cal Tjader,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crash Course in Science,
Massinfluence,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brass Construction,
Guru Guru,
Suicide,
The Beau Brummels,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Christie,
Rakim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amon Düül,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare,
Godley & Creme,
The Standells,
The Victims,
Funkadelic,
Dark Day,
B.T. Express,
The Gories,
KRS-One,
Idris Muhammad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bootsy Collins,
Marvin Gaye,
Sex Pistols,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.