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 Greece and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer 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 Black Pus to the funk 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Lalann,
Dorothy Ashby,
Underground Resistance,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Byrd,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marine Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Faust,
Eli Mardock,
The Fuzztones,
the Soft Cell,
Pantytec,
Todd Rundgren,
The Smoke,
Fela Kuti,
Zapp,
Subhumans,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
Ice-T,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
Monks,
Silicon Teens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Junior Murvin,
The Selecter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faraquet,
Soulsonic Force,
D'Angelo,
The Associates,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cure,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Bourne,
MDC,
X-Ray Spex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jandek,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cal Tjader,
Duran Duran,
Warren Ellis,
Sam Rivers,
Michelle Simonal,
The Move,
Funky Four + One,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Easy Going,
Popol Vuh,
Rufus Thomas,
R.M.O.,
Crime,
a-ha,
Deepchord,
Alice Coltrane,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.