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 Czech Republic and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ronnie Foster to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harmonia,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ornette Coleman,
Symarip,
Hoover,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Babytalk,
Roy Ayers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Pretty Things,
The Gun Club,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sparks,
Black Flag,
Skriet,
Kool Moe Dee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Sonics,
Fad Gadget,
48th St. Collective,
Mad Mike,
DJ Style,
The Raincoats,
Marmalade,
Smog,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yellowson,
Morten Harket,
Todd Rundgren,
The Grass Roots,
The Techniques,
Alphaville,
Underground Resistance,
The Fortunes,
Alison Limerick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Simply Red,
Lakeside,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deakin,
Echospace,
H. Thieme,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thompson Twins,
Slave,
Shoche,
One Last Wish,
Y Pants,
Warren Ellis,
Fugazi,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Goldenarms,
World's Most,
Siglo XX,
Masters at Work,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.