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 Kiribati and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blancmange to the punk 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Human League,
B.T. Express,
Lou Christie,
Gong,
The Skatalites,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television Personalities,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minny Pops,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Main Source,
Black Flag,
Dawn Penn,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
One Last Wish,
Ronnie Foster,
Sixth Finger,
Ludus,
Crash Course in Science,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deepchord,
Shoche,
Mandrill,
Chrome,
John Cale,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Easy Going,
Zero Boys,
The Smoke,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ituana,
Barry Ungar,
Peter & Gordon,
The Offenders,
Radiopuhelimet,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Crime,
Bill Near,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Finger,
Steve Hackett,
K-Klass,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rod Modell,
kango's stein massive,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James White and The Blacks,
Interpol,
The Searchers,
Anakelly,
Derrick Morgan,
The Last Poets,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
In Retrospect,
ABBA,
Skriet,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.