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 Ivory Coast and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the electroclash 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Dolphy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
The Dirtbombs,
The Standells,
Barbara Tucker,
Rotary Connection,
Wings,
Ice-T,
The Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Agitation Free,
The Invisible,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rod Modell,
Jesper Dahlback,
T.S.O.L.,
Underground Resistance,
Sällskapet,
Barrington Levy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mummies,
Gang of Four,
Josef K,
John Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Order,
Hot Snakes,
David Bowie,
Nas,
Thompson Twins,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yusef Lateef,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pagans,
Eden Ahbez,
Aloha Tigers,
Scratch Acid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joe Finger,
Derrick May,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Reed,
Kerri Chandler,
The Golliwogs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Goldenarms,
Circle Jerks,
The Slits,
Crooked Eye,
The Velvet Underground,
K-Klass,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.