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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fire Engines to the techno 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Terry Callier,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stetsasonic,
The Index,
Audionom,
Wasted Youth,
The Toasters,
Nirvana,
Colin Newman,
Wolf Eyes,
Dead Boys,
Delta 5,
Henry Cow,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Residents,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hot Snakes,
The New Christs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ten City,
Eddi Front,
The Gap Band,
Peter & Gordon,
X-101,
The Techniques,
Derrick May,
Aural Exciters,
Maleditus Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Spandau Ballet,
The Sonics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Main Source,
Whodini,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donald Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Selecter,
Mo-Dettes,
Lakeside,
Bobby Womack,
UT,
The Dead C,
John Lydon,
Essential Logic,
Make Up,
Jawbox,
FM Einheit,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
Hashim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Television,
Roy Ayers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.