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 Guinea-Bissau and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Parry Music,
In Retrospect,
Gang of Four,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
Massinfluence,
Slave,
Mantronix,
Banda Bassotti,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Kinks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul II Soul,
Heaven 17,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Sherman,
Deadbeat,
Slick Rick,
The Leaves,
The Zeros,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
Derrick May,
Nils Olav,
Joe Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Saints,
Ituana,
Man Parrish,
Grauzone,
The Sound,
The Count Five,
Josef K,
Danielle Patucci,
the Bar-Kays,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris & Cosey,
The Pretty Things,
Jeff Mills,
The Selecter,
Sandy B,
Mr. Review,
Dual Sessions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Pus,
Liliput,
Peter & Gordon,
Eurythmics,
Deepchord,
Porter Ricks,
Flash Fearless,
FM Einheit,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Flag,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.