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 Belgium and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lindisfarne,
Niagra,
Organ,
The Victims,
Marine Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Quando Quango,
The Techniques,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soul Sonic Force,
Man Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rod Modell,
Gabor Szabo,
The Happenings,
Barbara Tucker,
Wire,
Anakelly,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fall,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fela Kuti,
Alton Ellis,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
a-ha,
Agent Orange,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
UT,
David McCallum,
Grey Daturas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lakeside,
Junior Murvin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Moody Blues,
Matthew Bourne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fatback Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Anthony Braxton,
the Slits,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bluetip,
Alison Limerick,
Prince Buster,
Moby Grape,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
Bobby Womack,
Quadrant,
Smog,
Jawbox,
La Düsseldorf,
Amazonics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Normal,
L. Decosne,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.