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 Bolivia and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Human League to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Steve Hackett,
Icehouse,
Amon Düül,
Country Teasers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doors,
Eve St. Jones,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Toasters,
Lou Reed,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Sonic Youth,
Yellowson,
The Gun Club,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minnie Riperton,
Idris Muhammad,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Blues Magoos,
Radio Birdman,
Brand Nubian,
Sällskapet,
The Invisible,
MDC,
48th St. Collective,
OOIOO,
Blake Baxter,
Los Fastidios,
Bizarre Inc.,
Basic Channel,
Ronan,
The Searchers,
The Associates,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Cale,
Minny Pops,
Smog,
R.M.O.,
Deakin,
Chris & Cosey,
Amazonics,
Cymande,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cure,
David Bowie,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott Heron,
China Crisis,
X-101,
LL Cool J,
Gang Starr,
The Tremeloes,
The Techniques,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pere Ubu,
New Order,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.