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 Kiribati and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grunge 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
The Wake,
Hoover,
Oneida,
The Vogues,
PIL,
Icehouse,
Tres Demented,
Pussy Galore,
Make Up,
Desert Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
Janne Schatter,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Byrd,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Last Poets,
DNA,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Amon Düül,
Lungfish,
Eurythmics,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Residents,
The Young Rascals,
Tomorrow,
The Moody Blues,
Josef K,
The Pretty Things,
Sex Pistols,
Aural Exciters,
The Skatalites,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gladiators,
Jacob Miller,
Roxy Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
Clear Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pole,
The Happenings,
New York Dolls,
Harpers Bizarre,
R.M.O.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Television,
Organ,
Patti Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
Deadbeat,
Rapeman,
Wire,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter and Kerry,
EPMD,
Fluxion,
Blake Baxter,
The Index,
Eddi Front,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.