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 Korea North and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 Bob Dylan to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Görl,
Derrick Morgan,
Heaven 17,
The Selecter,
The Dirtbombs,
Morten Harket,
Junior Murvin,
CMW,
48th St. Collective,
Pantaleimon,
Davy DMX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q and Not U,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Last Poets,
Wolf Eyes,
the Swans,
Minnie Riperton,
Siglo XX,
Stiv Bators,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fortunes,
Skarface,
Magma,
Ultravox,
Lou Reed,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Bananas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glambeats Corp.,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Average White Band,
Soul II Soul,
Flash Fearless,
Rites of Spring,
Suicide,
The Sonics,
Wings,
The Monks,
Dual Sessions,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Sixth Finger,
Nation of Ulysses,
Franke,
Donald Byrd,
Vainqueur,
Soul Sonic Force,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Excepter,
Yazoo,
The Happenings,
Leonard Cohen,
Delta 5,
Eden Ahbez,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.