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 Lesotho and from Johannesburg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum 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 David McCallum to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Qualms,
Black Sheep,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The United States of America,
KRS-One,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Das Ding,
Von Mondo,
Sun City Girls,
The Leaves,
The Blues Magoos,
The Divine Comedy,
Bad Manners,
Nico,
Oneida,
Man Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Index,
Schoolly D,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Green,
The Young Rascals,
Maurizio,
Rekid,
Eli Mardock,
Porter Ricks,
The J.B.'s,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Spandau Ballet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Bananas,
Wire,
Pharoah Sanders,
D'Angelo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Suburban Knight,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Real Kids,
Max Romeo,
Adolescents,
Neil Young,
Kayak,
The Buckinghams,
Janne Schatter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Pop Group,
Black Pus,
Scratch Acid,
Tres Demented,
Altered Images,
Camouflage,
Essential Logic,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.