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 Slovenia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Whodini to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Kenny Larkin,
kango's stein massive,
The Happenings,
Goldenarms,
Tommy Roe,
LL Cool J,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABBA,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
The Motions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Mills,
Outsiders,
Cybotron,
Steve Hackett,
X-Ray Spex,
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Black Pus,
The Slits,
the Sonics,
Camouflage,
Joey Negro,
Yusef Lateef,
Suburban Knight,
John Holt,
Grey Daturas,
a-ha,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Birthday Party,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Albert Ayler,
Bill Wells,
Panda Bear,
Todd Terry,
Magazine,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nirvana,
Wings,
The Angels of Light,
Charles Mingus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jandek,
Joe Finger,
Malaria!,
Al Stewart,
The Victims,
Amazonics,
The Leaves,
Dorothy Ashby,
David Bowie,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.