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 Belize and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Modern Lovers to the punk 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heaven 17,
Moebius,
Marc Almond,
Wally Richardson,
Ronnie Foster,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cybotron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blackbyrds,
Livin' Joy,
Masters at Work,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fat Boys,
Black Flag,
David Axelrod,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ossler,
The Fall,
Blancmange,
Tears for Fears,
Reuben Wilson,
Underground Resistance,
Marmalade,
Alison Limerick,
Oblivians,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monochrome Set,
the Normal,
Quadrant,
10cc,
Tomorrow,
Wings,
UT,
Al Stewart,
The Litter,
Malaria!,
Desert Stars,
Subhumans,
Funkadelic,
The Pop Group,
Soul II Soul,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eurythmics,
Ultra Naté,
The Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
Glenn Branca,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Alice Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.