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 Brunei and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Chris Corsano to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quantec,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marcia Griffiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
F. McDonald,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Sheep,
Depeche Mode,
The Moody Blues,
Marc Almond,
X-102,
The Durutti Column,
Robert Hood,
Little Man,
CMW,
Bluetip,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scrapy,
Aural Exciters,
Urselle,
Average White Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aloha Tigers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bronski Beat,
Moby Grape,
Excepter,
Unwound,
Camberwell Now,
The Star Department,
Anakelly,
Visage,
Bush Tetras,
The Gladiators,
Pierre Henry,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
New Order,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed,
Radiopuhelimet,
Malaria!,
K-Klass,
David McCallum,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Stooges,
One Last Wish,
Trumans Water,
Soulsonic Force,
China Crisis,
Godley & Creme,
Ken Boothe,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.