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 Gabon and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Detroit Cobras 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Barry Ungar,
the Bar-Kays,
Kas Product,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grauzone,
The Raincoats,
Bang On A Can,
The Remains,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
CMW,
Bauhaus,
the Slits,
Fatback Band,
Freddie Wadling,
The Monochrome Set,
Clear Light,
Minny Pops,
Camouflage,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Divine Comedy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Anthony Braxton,
Technova,
Sugar Minott,
John Cale,
Blossom Toes,
The Monks,
Oneida,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siglo XX,
Juan Atkins,
B.T. Express,
Deakin,
Sparks,
Unrelated Segments,
The Martian,
Tomorrow,
The Saints,
Popol Vuh,
LL Cool J,
Darondo,
Davy DMX,
Brass Construction,
John Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Wyatt,
Dawn Penn,
Q65,
the Soft Cell,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Susan Cadogan,
Kerri Chandler,
Japan,
Soft Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Althea and Donna,
kango's stein massive,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.