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 Libya and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Qualms to the rap 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Copeland,
Agitation Free,
Delta 5,
Black Bananas,
the Human League,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nirvana,
Al Stewart,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Womack,
Ten City,
Altered Images,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Lydon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Residents,
Loose Ends,
a-ha,
Toni Rubio,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Wyatt,
Minutemen,
The Sonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deakin,
Fear,
Eden Ahbez,
Monks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wings,
Lucky Dragons,
The Barracudas,
Hashim,
Donald Byrd,
Newcleus,
Swans,
Model 500,
the Association,
Malaria!,
Barry Ungar,
Scan 7,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Christie,
MDC,
Electric Prunes,
Heaven 17,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The New Christs,
The Standells,
The Litter,
Das Ding,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Popol Vuh,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.