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 Czech Republic and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rites of Spring to the grime 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Eric Copeland,
The United States of America,
the Human League,
The Gories,
Section 25,
The Durutti Column,
The Victims,
Gong,
Bootsy Collins,
the Swans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crispian St. Peters,
Donald Byrd,
The Fortunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Henry Cow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wasted Youth,
Black Pus,
Minny Pops,
Blancmange,
Radiopuhelimet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amon Düül II,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Bourne,
The Barracudas,
Lou Christie,
The Sound,
Rapeman,
Quantec,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Urselle,
John Foxx,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fatback Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bronski Beat,
Main Source,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Holt,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Grass Roots,
Jeff Mills,
Unwound,
Ultra Naté,
Hardrive,
Ken Boothe,
Eddi Front,
Wally Richardson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flipper,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DJ Sneak,
Tears for Fears,
DJ Style,
Procol Harum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms,
Newcleus,
Ultravox,
Wings,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.