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 Canada and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Silicon Teens to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ 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 marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
The Golliwogs,
Hashim,
Bobby Byrd,
Suicide,
Reuben Wilson,
Deakin,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Starr,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Q65,
The Birthday Party,
Nik Kershaw,
Make Up,
Blake Baxter,
Bad Manners,
Fear,
Stiv Bators,
World's Most,
Kayak,
Sugar Minott,
Dead Boys,
The Real Kids,
Ten City,
The Searchers,
The Associates,
Symarip,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Christie,
The Residents,
cv313,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Womack,
Altered Images,
Spandau Ballet,
The Standells,
June of 44,
Camouflage,
Porter Ricks,
Kaleidoscope,
Darondo,
Byron Stingily,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Donald Byrd,
the Sonics,
The Trojans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brand Nubian,
Pagans,
The Gladiators,
The Saints,
Accadde A,
L. Decosne,
Excepter,
Niagra,
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
Kenny Larkin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Drive Like Jehu,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.