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 Comoros and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 The Doors to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Suburban Knight,
Ralphi Rosario,
Banda Bassotti,
R.M.O.,
Hardrive,
Ohio Players,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brick,
Amon Düül II,
Toni Rubio,
Grey Daturas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chrome,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Colin Newman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maurizio,
The Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
New York Dolls,
The Associates,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Rundgren,
Spoonie Gee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantaleimon,
PIL,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Second Layer,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Pus,
Pylon,
Letta Mbulu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Talk Talk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mojo Men,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Wyatt,
Parry Music,
Lalo Schifrin,
Zapp,
The Fall,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Royal Trux,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.