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 Liechtenstein and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Kas Product to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
JFA,
The Seeds,
ABC,
Accadde A,
The Toasters,
Young Marble Giants,
F. McDonald,
The Count Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Maurizio,
Saccharine Trust,
Organ,
Wings,
the Human League,
Sandy B,
Swans,
Grauzone,
Rakim,
Tres Demented,
The Smoke,
T.S.O.L.,
The Misunderstood,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sound Behaviour,
Zapp,
Erasure,
Soulsonic Force,
Quantec,
New Age Steppers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warsaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bush Tetras,
The Invisible,
Animal Collective,
Andrew Hill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Electric Prunes,
Agent Orange,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jacques Brel,
Flash Fearless,
FM Einheit,
Lower 48,
James White and The Blacks,
The Beau Brummels,
Soul Sonic Force,
Faraquet,
Niagra,
Mission of Burma,
The Skatalites,
Jandek,
Jerry's Kids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Amon Düül II,
Royal Trux,
Mark Hollis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.