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 Hungary and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 Sound Behaviour to the dance 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
MDC,
Wire,
Ituana,
MC5,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Near,
Sam Rivers,
The Human League,
Aaron Thompson,
Hashim,
Rod Modell,
Scan 7,
Japan,
Los Fastidios,
Althea and Donna,
Hardrive,
Soft Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Byron Stingily,
Pharoah Sanders,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Average White Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Franke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Infiniti,
Pantaleimon,
The Invisible,
Archie Shepp,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
China Crisis,
The Neon Judgement,
Masters at Work,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fear,
Boz Scaggs,
Rites of Spring,
Blake Baxter,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Starr,
The Motions,
Letta Mbulu,
Khruangbin,
a-ha,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Albert Ayler,
Liliput,
Minutemen,
The Pretty Things,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Bananas,
Steve Hackett,
Ronnie Foster,
ABBA,
Ponytail,
Sixth Finger,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.