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 Dominican Republic and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Ken Boothe to the funk 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Absolute Body Control,
Althea and Donna,
Dual Sessions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eurythmics,
Yaz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Boz Scaggs,
the Slits,
Eli Mardock,
Sun Ra,
Anakelly,
Steve Hackett,
Grauzone,
Icehouse,
The Beau Brummels,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moby Grape,
The Skatalites,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joy Division,
John Cale,
The Standells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Siglo XX,
The Walker Brothers,
the Swans,
Archie Shepp,
Japan,
Black Flag,
Stetsasonic,
The Smiths,
Scrapy,
The Angels of Light,
Gichy Dan,
Cymande,
Supertramp,
Loose Ends,
Liliput,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Names,
David Axelrod,
Mission of Burma,
Underground Resistance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Foxx,
Eddi Front,
Man Eating Sloth,
Qualms,
Kenny Larkin,
Agent Orange,
Altered Images,
Erykah Badu,
The Doors,
The Motions,
The American Breed,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.