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 Congo and from Toronto.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joyce Sims to the electroclash 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantytec,
Man Parrish,
The Five Americans,
Nirvana,
Fat Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
CMW,
Suburban Knight,
Moby Grape,
Tom Boy,
John Lydon,
Godley & Creme,
Byron Stingily,
The Blackbyrds,
Radio Birdman,
Simply Red,
Mad Mike,
The Dave Clark Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barbara Tucker,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash,
Second Layer,
Laurel Aitken,
Television Personalities,
Joey Negro,
The Real Kids,
The Gun Club,
The Motions,
Thompson Twins,
Newcleus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fear,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ornette Coleman,
The Young Rascals,
Bush Tetras,
Vainqueur,
John Foxx,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Smiths,
Basic Channel,
Charles Mingus,
Average White Band,
John Cale,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cabaret Voltaire,
AZ,
Nas,
Fugazi,
Angry Samoans,
The Gladiators,
Max Romeo,
Dave Gahan,
The Evens,
Sällskapet,
Scratch Acid,
FM Einheit,
The Grass Roots,
Metal Thangz,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.