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 East Timor and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin 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 Aloha Tigers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blake Baxter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marvin Gaye,
Thee Headcoats,
Yellowson,
Morten Harket,
ABBA,
Rod Modell,
Sparks,
Arcadia,
Henry Cow,
48th St. Collective,
Scion,
Goldenarms,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Monks,
Amon Düül II,
Underground Resistance,
Barry Ungar,
Sarah Menescal,
Babytalk,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wolf Eyes,
Swans,
Arthur Verocai,
Bronski Beat,
Inner City,
China Crisis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Lydon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eden Ahbez,
The Invisible,
Derrick May,
Barbara Tucker,
Clear Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hot Snakes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Angels of Light,
The Count Five,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ice-T,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Zeros,
DJ Sneak,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Camberwell Now,
Masters at Work,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Sonics,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.