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 Sierra Leone and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rekid to the jazz 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
John Coltrane,
Oblivians,
Bob Dylan,
Theoretical Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Rotary Connection,
Drive Like Jehu,
Whodini,
JFA,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ohio Players,
The New Christs,
H. Thieme,
The Seeds,
Sex Pistols,
The Evens,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vladislav Delay,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aloha Tigers,
the Human League,
Maurizio,
Sister Nancy,
Ituana,
The Blackbyrds,
Cheater Slicks,
Tom Boy,
Cameo,
The Walker Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Swans,
Bill Wells,
Sarah Menescal,
Magazine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultimate Spinach,
Procol Harum,
The Five Americans,
Loose Ends,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Panda Bear,
Television,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Pantaleimon,
Pere Ubu,
Skaos,
Jeru the Damaja,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Morten Harket,
Lucky Dragons,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Anakelly,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.