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 Tonga and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Eurythmics to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
FM Einheit,
Delta 5,
David Axelrod,
Minutemen,
Henry Cow,
Massinfluence,
the Human League,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Raincoats,
Youth Brigade,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stockholm Monsters,
DJ Sneak,
Aural Exciters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Barracudas,
Derrick May,
Brass Construction,
The Dead C,
Lungfish,
the Bar-Kays,
Symarip,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blake Baxter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Count Five,
Bauhaus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barry Ungar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Albert Ayler,
Motorama,
CMW,
Public Enemy,
The Move,
John Coltrane,
Mars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
Oblivians,
Sex Pistols,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Sonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dennis Brown,
DNA,
The Cramps,
Scratch Acid,
Pantaleimon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Maleditus Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rakim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cal Tjader,
Von Mondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terry Callier,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.