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 Gabon and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Thee Headcoats to the punk 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
The Moody Blues,
a-ha,
The Index,
Aloha Tigers,
Marine Girls,
In Retrospect,
DNA,
Banda Bassotti,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Swans,
Gang of Four,
Josef K,
The Associates,
Mad Mike,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ohio Players,
Howard Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tropical Tobacco,
David Axelrod,
The United States of America,
Chris Corsano,
John Holt,
Magma,
The Seeds,
Cybotron,
Janne Schatter,
Fluxion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deakin,
Davy DMX,
Charles Mingus,
Hardrive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pussy Galore,
The Last Poets,
Mr. Review,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rod Modell,
Y Pants,
Henry Cow,
Symarip,
The Slackers,
The Remains,
Mantronix,
The Gories,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ronnie Foster,
Niagra,
The Zeros,
DJ Sneak,
These Immortal Souls,
John Lydon,
Wasted Youth,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.