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 Mozambique and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Yellowson to the grunge 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
A Certain Ratio,
Bluetip,
Symarip,
The Cramps,
The Music Machine,
Suicide,
Hasil Adkins,
The Angels of Light,
Kerri Chandler,
Simply Red,
Marvin Gaye,
The Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eden Ahbez,
Quadrant,
Sound Behaviour,
Don Cherry,
Mission of Burma,
KRS-One,
ABBA,
The United States of America,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter & Gordon,
Fluxion,
Donny Hathaway,
The Associates,
Franke,
Pole,
Peter and Kerry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Darondo,
Heaven 17,
Joe Finger,
James White and The Blacks,
Neu!,
Wings,
The Leaves,
Albert Ayler,
The Gladiators,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cymande,
Liliput,
Young Marble Giants,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Lydon,
B.T. Express,
Malaria!,
Dual Sessions,
Index,
The Martian,
Nik Kershaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minnie Riperton,
Kaleidoscope,
The Monks,
Country Teasers,
Robert Görl,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.