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 Liberia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Terry Callier to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Inner City,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Wells,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
The Blackbyrds,
Banda Bassotti,
The Evens,
Amazonics,
Ohio Players,
The Doors,
Quadrant,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mo-Dettes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Names,
Lungfish,
Procol Harum,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Grass Roots,
JFA,
Mars,
Ludus,
Faust,
Magma,
John Holt,
Lou Christie,
The American Breed,
Soulsonic Force,
The Raincoats,
Cecil Taylor,
Quando Quango,
Minutemen,
Sixth Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Rosa Yemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joe Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Style,
Sam Rivers,
Al Stewart,
Subhumans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sarah Menescal,
Cluster,
The Pop Group,
Morten Harket,
Johnny Clarke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gladiators,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Khruangbin,
Robert Hood,
UT,
The Angels of Light,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.