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 Afghanistan and from Paris.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sonics to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Black Moon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Severed Heads,
Tres Demented,
Fatback Band,
Smog,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Henry Cow,
Mission of Burma,
Spoonie Gee,
Index,
Carl Craig,
Goldenarms,
Don Cherry,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Neil Young,
Archie Shepp,
Talk Talk,
Zero Boys,
Mr. Review,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
Isaac Hayes,
The Human League,
The Fortunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reagan Youth,
Schoolly D,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joe Smooth,
Malaria!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arcadia,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bob Dylan,
The Knickerbockers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Quadrant,
Jimmy McGriff,
Absolute Body Control,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quando Quango,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Aural Exciters,
Camouflage,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scott Walker,
Robert Hood,
Fad Gadget,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Slits,
Thompson Twins,
The Star Department,
The Monochrome Set,
The New Christs,
Sällskapet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.