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 Botswana and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar 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 Eli Mardock to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Henry Cow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joey Negro,
The Moody Blues,
Fluxion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Letta Mbulu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nick Fraelich,
Crispy Ambulance,
Public Image Ltd.,
D'Angelo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barrington Levy,
Skarface,
Black Sheep,
Man Parrish,
Matthew Halsall,
David Bowie,
Buzzcocks,
Country Teasers,
Pagans,
Scientists,
Isaac Hayes,
Jacob Miller,
Marcia Griffiths,
ABC,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cramps,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
Ponytail,
Arcadia,
Glambeats Corp.,
Anakelly,
Groovy Waters,
Half Japanese,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brick,
X-101,
the Association,
The Modern Lovers,
Yellowson,
Rod Modell,
The Gladiators,
Gabor Szabo,
The Five Americans,
Prince Buster,
Tom Boy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Radiopuhelimet,
Erykah Badu,
Amazonics,
Visage,
Adolescents,
John Lydon,
the Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
Surgeon,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.