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 Israel and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 Jeru the Damaja to the punk 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
The Victims,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers,
Ituana,
Pagans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Al Stewart,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Max Romeo,
UT,
Mars,
Groovy Waters,
H. Thieme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Count Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Dave Gahan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moby Grape,
Chris Corsano,
Oneida,
FM Einheit,
Barclay James Harvest,
New York Dolls,
Technova,
Harmonia,
the Slits,
Jacob Miller,
John Coltrane,
Marc Almond,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Minny Pops,
Sun Ra,
Crooked Eye,
ABBA,
Marcia Griffiths,
Throbbing Gristle,
Delta 5,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tim Buckley,
MDC,
Desert Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Danielle Patucci,
The Smiths,
Young Marble Giants,
Charles Mingus,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Moon,
The Fugs,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jawbox,
Nico,
Alice Coltrane,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.