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 Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Crooked Eye,
Audionom,
Fat Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bad Manners,
Wings,
Todd Rundgren,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chrome,
Chris & Cosey,
Stiv Bators,
AZ,
The Dave Clark Five,
Procol Harum,
The Divine Comedy,
New Age Steppers,
Pussy Galore,
Wolf Eyes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dead C,
The Five Americans,
Ken Boothe,
Arab on Radar,
Crime,
Archie Shepp,
The Saints,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Association,
Andrew Hill,
Heaven 17,
Bluetip,
Accadde A,
Guru Guru,
Lakeside,
The Smoke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dennis Brown,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
Alison Limerick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Banda Bassotti,
James White and The Blacks,
Vainqueur,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deepchord,
A Certain Ratio,
Spoonie Gee,
Dark Day,
Isaac Hayes,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Prince Buster,
The Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Derrick May,
Eurythmics,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.