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 Mauritania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord 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 Popol Vuh to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Albert Ayler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bush Tetras,
U.S. Maple,
Dennis Brown,
Pere Ubu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tom Boy,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sonics,
Reagan Youth,
Dawn Penn,
Susan Cadogan,
Boz Scaggs,
Pylon,
Lou Christie,
Organ,
Sonny Sharrock,
Visage,
Glenn Branca,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Arab on Radar,
Brass Construction,
The Count Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sound Behaviour,
The Smiths,
Nico,
Minutemen,
The Leaves,
Arthur Verocai,
Blake Baxter,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Birthday Party,
Eve St. Jones,
Leonard Cohen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yellowson,
Ludus,
X-102,
The Index,
Thee Headcoats,
New Age Steppers,
Hashim,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rotary Connection,
Juan Atkins,
Pussy Galore,
Massinfluence,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Pretty Things,
Supertramp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Steve Hackett,
Dave Gahan,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.