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 Iraq and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
Flipper,
Dennis Brown,
Kenny Larkin,
Gong,
Severed Heads,
Quando Quango,
Mr. Review,
the Human League,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Niagra,
Brass Construction,
Livin' Joy,
Boz Scaggs,
Pantytec,
Lalann,
The Velvet Underground,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Zapp,
Colin Newman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skarface,
Fear,
Howard Jones,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lungfish,
The Toasters,
Qualms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aloha Tigers,
Goldenarms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angry Samoans,
Cecil Taylor,
Cheater Slicks,
Blossom Toes,
The Birthday Party,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bush Tetras,
Yellowson,
The Neon Judgement,
X-102,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soul II Soul,
Black Pus,
Bauhaus,
Connie Case,
Hardrive,
Robert Görl,
Tim Buckley,
Organ,
the Sonics,
John Coltrane,
Alton Ellis,
Dual Sessions,
Isaac Hayes,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Doors,
Procol Harum,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.