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 Angola and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Swell Maps to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cowsills,
Aaron Thompson,
Kayak,
Vladislav Delay,
The Human League,
Gang Green,
Groovy Waters,
Chris Corsano,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Fania All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Anthony Braxton,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Donny Hathaway,
Throbbing Gristle,
L. Decosne,
Jerry's Kids,
The Walker Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Make Up,
The Moleskins,
The Fire Engines,
Todd Rundgren,
Depeche Mode,
Cluster,
Fat Boys,
The Remains,
Chrome,
Steve Hackett,
The Music Machine,
Whodini,
Unrelated Segments,
Pere Ubu,
Los Fastidios,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aswad,
Gregory Isaacs,
Infiniti,
Warren Ellis,
Fluxion,
Simply Red,
Swell Maps,
Panda Bear,
The American Breed,
Tubeway Army,
One Last Wish,
The Real Kids,
Susan Cadogan,
Wally Richardson,
Clear Light,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.