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 Monaco and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bootsy Collins to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Sun City Girls,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bob Dylan,
Dual Sessions,
Procol Harum,
John Lydon,
The Skatalites,
Quadrant,
Intrusion,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agent Orange,
Roxy Music,
Idris Muhammad,
Althea and Donna,
the Association,
Royal Trux,
Joyce Sims,
Colin Newman,
Motorama,
Yaz,
New York Dolls,
Faust,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blancmange,
Underground Resistance,
The Knickerbockers,
Infiniti,
Second Layer,
Interpol,
ABC,
Eurythmics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sister Nancy,
Q and Not U,
Lakeside,
Brothers Johnson,
Audionom,
The Sonics,
Anthony Braxton,
The Motions,
Oneida,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Monks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cramps,
Neil Young,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
Pylon,
Amazonics,
The Slits,
The Toasters,
Black Bananas,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.