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 Kosovo and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Lou Reed 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 U.S. Maple to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Cameo,
Accadde A,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kayak,
Aswad,
Average White Band,
Qualms,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
The Names,
Sister Nancy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David McCallum,
Harry Pussy,
Gang of Four,
Eddi Front,
Godley & Creme,
Animal Collective,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gabor Szabo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lalann,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Hood,
The Barracudas,
The Busters,
Chrome,
The Divine Comedy,
The Real Kids,
Scan 7,
Susan Cadogan,
The Slits,
The Beau Brummels,
The Victims,
Angry Samoans,
Clear Light,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Cale,
Minnie Riperton,
Vainqueur,
Negative Approach,
the Sonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Kinks,
Wasted Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Stooges,
Crispy Ambulance,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Supertramp,
MC5,
Radio Birdman,
James White and The Blacks,
The Neon Judgement,
Morten Harket,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Grass Roots,
Sunsets and Hearts,
T. Rex,
Dennis Brown,
Funky Four + One,
ABBA,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.