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 Ukraine and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 World's Most to the dance 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Quadrant,
Todd Terry,
Ultravox,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Dolphy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Iggy Pop,
Kevin Saunderson,
Niagra,
Byron Stingily,
Suburban Knight,
Kerri Chandler,
Ronan,
Andrew Hill,
The Angels of Light,
Talk Talk,
Joe Finger,
Pagans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fire Engines,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terry Callier,
Shoche,
Public Enemy,
Hardrive,
Matthew Halsall,
Roger Hodgson,
Judy Mowatt,
Yusef Lateef,
The Seeds,
Little Man,
T.S.O.L.,
Underground Resistance,
Neu!,
Carl Craig,
Blake Baxter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Boredoms,
Au Pairs,
David Bowie,
Alphaville,
Gang Green,
Motorama,
Alison Limerick,
Tubeway Army,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Hood,
Surgeon,
the Sonics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harmonia,
The Martian,
OOIOO,
Brass Construction,
Black Pus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moebius,
Crime,
Barrington Levy,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.