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 Ireland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Don Cherry,
Symarip,
Wally Richardson,
Moebius,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Girls At Our Best!,
The United States of America,
Black Moon,
Sun City Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tom Boy,
Stiv Bators,
CMW,
Suburban Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Tim Buckley,
Boredoms,
The Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Al Stewart,
Charles Mingus,
Ituana,
Hoover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Henry Cow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Foxx,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Quadrant,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Franke,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Wake,
Howard Jones,
The Dead C,
World's Most,
The Saints,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Youth Brigade,
Gabor Szabo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soft Cell,
Minor Threat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Barracudas,
Rod Modell,
Black Sheep,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flash Fearless,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonic Youth,
Alphaville,
The Pop Group,
Gang Starr,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lower 48,
Yellowson,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.