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 Greece and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb 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 Lalo Schifrin to the electroclash 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Nik Kershaw,
Matthew Halsall,
Chris & Cosey,
Cybotron,
Blancmange,
The Victims,
Jacques Brel,
Crime,
Rekid,
JFA,
Dennis Brown,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Pretty Things,
DJ Style,
Maleditus Sound,
the Slits,
The Wake,
Camouflage,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jerry's Kids,
Scott Walker,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Junior Murvin,
Nirvana,
The American Breed,
The Residents,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultravox,
Cymande,
Fat Boys,
Easy Going,
D'Angelo,
Juan Atkins,
Unrelated Segments,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lindisfarne,
Jawbox,
Fluxion,
The Last Poets,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stiv Bators,
Half Japanese,
Fad Gadget,
Supertramp,
John Foxx,
New York Dolls,
Moss Icon,
Banda Bassotti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Prince Buster,
Donald Byrd,
Gong,
Alison Limerick,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Young Rascals,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.