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 Cameroon and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Martian to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Byrd,
E-Dancer,
Basic Channel,
Bobby Sherman,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Mills,
Livin' Joy,
Harry Pussy,
The New Christs,
Interpol,
Mo-Dettes,
Lucky Dragons,
Shuggie Otis,
Carl Craig,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare,
Half Japanese,
Warren Ellis,
Charles Mingus,
The Mojo Men,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dark Day,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crime,
Severed Heads,
Moby Grape,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Foxx,
The Smoke,
The Doors,
Bauhaus,
Chris Corsano,
The Modern Lovers,
Iggy Pop,
Minny Pops,
Suicide,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Pagans,
The Walker Brothers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stetsasonic,
Bush Tetras,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cecil Taylor,
Siglo XX,
Soul Sonic Force,
JFA,
Reuben Wilson,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.