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 Poland and from Tokyo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Music Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Lightning Bolt,
Crime,
Duran Duran,
The Fugs,
Suicide,
Bobby Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dirtbombs,
Sonic Youth,
Sam Rivers,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Faust,
the Sonics,
Andrew Hill,
Gregory Isaacs,
Charles Mingus,
Bronski Beat,
The Beau Brummels,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang of Four,
Liliput,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mandrill,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suburban Knight,
Tom Boy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Albert Ayler,
Television,
Piero Umiliani,
John Lydon,
The Martian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bluetip,
Brick,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cluster,
Big Daddy Kane,
10cc,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Sherman,
Lyres,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Technova,
Blake Baxter,
New Age Steppers,
Minnie Riperton,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mission of Burma,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cybotron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kayak,
Barbara Tucker,
Prince Buster,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.