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 Madagascar and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Sixth Finger to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Banda Bassotti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fugs,
Schoolly D,
Cal Tjader,
Carl Craig,
Silicon Teens,
Whodini,
The Knickerbockers,
Tommy Roe,
The Birthday Party,
Tom Boy,
Mo-Dettes,
The Electric Prunes,
X-101,
Sandy B,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Martian,
The Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Sugar Minott,
Slave,
Dawn Penn,
Bauhaus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Count Five,
June of 44,
Minor Threat,
L. Decosne,
The American Breed,
Chris & Cosey,
Ornette Coleman,
Siglo XX,
Loose Ends,
Lucky Dragons,
Clear Light,
Ohio Players,
Iggy Pop,
Boz Scaggs,
Metal Thangz,
Warsaw,
The Angels of Light,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Cell,
The Gun Club,
The Happenings,
Mad Mike,
Symarip,
MC5,
The Moleskins,
Joe Smooth,
Simply Red,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronan,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
The Black Dice,
Tomorrow,
Anthony Braxton,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.