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 Tunisia and from Bremen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Young Marble Giants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Absolute Body Control,
Fat Boys,
Amazonics,
Cheater Slicks,
Bootsy Collins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Section 25,
Marmalade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Searchers,
Average White Band,
The Last Poets,
Erasure,
Radiohead,
Amon Düül II,
Cybotron,
Monolake,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cal Tjader,
The Leaves,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hoover,
Pantytec,
Crash Course in Science,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Intrusion,
The Golliwogs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Quantec,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Loose Ends,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare,
The Barracudas,
Deadbeat,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wasted Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radio Birdman,
the Association,
Sex Pistols,
Groovy Waters,
Zapp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Happenings,
Depeche Mode,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Adolescents,
Oneida,
Popol Vuh,
The Buckinghams,
Ituana,
Animal Collective,
the Swans,
David Bowie,
Royal Trux,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.