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 Tanzania and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Black Flag to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Idris Muhammad,
X-Ray Spex,
Gerry Rafferty,
Be Bop Deluxe,
E-Dancer,
The Saints,
The Knickerbockers,
Bootsy Collins,
Slick Rick,
In Retrospect,
Cluster,
Matthew Bourne,
Hashim,
The New Christs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Iggy Pop,
Suicide,
The Five Americans,
Henry Cow,
Lindisfarne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Electric Prunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ronan,
Q65,
The Associates,
Suburban Knight,
Siglo XX,
Morten Harket,
Erykah Badu,
Delta 5,
Eve St. Jones,
Trumans Water,
Sun City Girls,
Bang On A Can,
China Crisis,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Country Teasers,
Japan,
Organ,
The Electric Prunes,
Slave,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
Mantronix,
Banda Bassotti,
The Alarm Clocks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dirtbombs,
Sarah Menescal,
The Black Dice,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stiv Bators,
Yusef Lateef,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.