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 Kiribati and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mission of Burma to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Lungfish,
Spandau Ballet,
Hasil Adkins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Subhumans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jeff Mills,
Vainqueur,
Harry Pussy,
Juan Atkins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Circle Jerks,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare,
Mad Mike,
Lalann,
Charles Mingus,
Faust,
John Holt,
Fluxion,
Quantec,
The Fuzztones,
The Monochrome Set,
Mr. Review,
Mars,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Move,
Von Mondo,
Cybotron,
Ituana,
L. Decosne,
Fela Kuti,
Popol Vuh,
The Cowsills,
Todd Rundgren,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eden Ahbez,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
The Last Poets,
Soft Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Names,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gong,
Gil Scott Heron,
kango's stein massive,
Marshall Jefferson,
Glenn Branca,
Donny Hathaway,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Wally Richardson,
MC5,
ABBA,
The Real Kids,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.