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 St Lucia and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Stereo Dub to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
The Trojans,
Anthony Braxton,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
R.M.O.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ossler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marmalade,
Jeff Lynne,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sixth Finger,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
LL Cool J,
Kaleidoscope,
The Invisible,
Bauhaus,
F. McDonald,
Echospace,
Crime,
Aural Exciters,
The Buckinghams,
Faust,
Dawn Penn,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
World's Most,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Wyatt,
Hot Snakes,
Mark Hollis,
The Misunderstood,
The Zeros,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joyce Sims,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gladiators,
Severed Heads,
Shuggie Otis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Talk Talk,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
Steve Hackett,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Womack,
Whodini,
Mary Jane Girls,
Josef K,
Skriet,
Brothers Johnson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Reuben Wilson,
Parry Music,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Index,
New York Dolls,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.