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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ornette Coleman to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dave Gahan,
Wire,
Pantytec,
Man Eating Sloth,
Laurel Aitken,
Nik Kershaw,
The J.B.'s,
Main Source,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Camouflage,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Flipper,
Aaron Thompson,
Mr. Review,
8 Eyed Spy,
Colin Newman,
Donny Hathaway,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faraquet,
Soft Machine,
Malaria!,
Jawbox,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Skatalites,
Roxy Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Vainqueur,
The Smoke,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Cale,
the Soft Cell,
Andrew Hill,
The Index,
The Blackbyrds,
CMW,
Talk Talk,
Skriet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bill Near,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gang Starr,
Ornette Coleman,
Loose Ends,
Suicide,
Sugar Minott,
Hot Snakes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Real Kids,
Sällskapet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Archie Shepp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.