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 Bolivia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet 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 The Golliwogs to the funk 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Tommy Roe,
Lyres,
Guru Guru,
Quantec,
Anakelly,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bauhaus,
The Cure,
Reuben Wilson,
The Smiths,
Robert Görl,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liliput,
Max Romeo,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
Sonny Sharrock,
48th St. Collective,
Mandrill,
Silicon Teens,
Grey Daturas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacob Miller,
June Days,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bill Near,
Interpol,
Iggy Pop,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amon Düül,
The Seeds,
Loose Ends,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deadbeat,
Flamin' Groovies,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brick,
Sun City Girls,
Roxette,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott Heron,
Shoche,
Dead Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Susan Cadogan,
Idris Muhammad,
Cecil Taylor,
Moss Icon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Colin Newman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Newcleus,
Agent Orange,
Vainqueur,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.