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 Singapore and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Marcia Griffiths to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Wolf Eyes,
The Busters,
Agitation Free,
Pole,
World's Most,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fortunes,
Steve Hackett,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
Jeff Lynne,
Deakin,
Reuben Wilson,
FM Einheit,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mojo Men,
Max Romeo,
B.T. Express,
DJ Style,
The Fire Engines,
Black Flag,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
One Last Wish,
the Swans,
Bluetip,
Sarah Menescal,
Chrome,
Eurythmics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aural Exciters,
Michelle Simonal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masters at Work,
Slick Rick,
Pagans,
Echospace,
Sight & Sound,
Mandrill,
R.M.O.,
Stetsasonic,
Franke,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Monks,
Dawn Penn,
The Cramps,
Sonny Sharrock,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Main Source,
Joe Finger,
The Durutti Column,
James White and The Blacks,
Unwound,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Gastr Del Sol,
New Age Steppers,
The Zeros,
Eric Dolphy,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.