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 Dominica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 The Searchers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Ronan,
F. McDonald,
Brass Construction,
Don Cherry,
Goldenarms,
Robert Wyatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Wells,
Letta Mbulu,
Marvin Gaye,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wings,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Move,
Judy Mowatt,
Scion,
B.T. Express,
Gang of Four,
Ash Ra Tempel,
ABBA,
Model 500,
Organ,
the Swans,
Robert Hood,
X-102,
Albert Ayler,
Yaz,
James White and The Blacks,
Graham Central Station,
Monolake,
The Last Poets,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aural Exciters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
The Walker Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cowsills,
Kerri Chandler,
Gerry Rafferty,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pierre Henry,
Second Layer,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kaleidoscope,
Shuggie Otis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
Josef K,
Matthew Halsall,
Susan Cadogan,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.