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 Kyrgyzstan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cheater Slicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Chris & Cosey,
Mission of Burma,
Monks,
Brick,
Brand Nubian,
Hardrive,
Loose Ends,
Josef K,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantytec,
Excepter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Parry Music,
Kerri Chandler,
China Crisis,
Second Layer,
Hasil Adkins,
Faraquet,
The Fortunes,
Iggy Pop,
a-ha,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
Deadbeat,
This Heat,
Absolute Body Control,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fire Engines,
Be Bop Deluxe,
John Foxx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Girls At Our Best!,
AZ,
Electric Prunes,
The Seeds,
The Gories,
Ash Ra Tempel,
June of 44,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dead Boys,
Main Source,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Negative Approach,
Pantaleimon,
Dave Gahan,
Danielle Patucci,
Amazonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Parrish,
The Cramps,
Zapp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monolake,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Velvet Underground,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.