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 Togo and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Blossom Toes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Angry Samoans,
ABC,
Fat Boys,
Prince Buster,
B.T. Express,
Franke,
Terry Callier,
Talk Talk,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cybotron,
Aloha Tigers,
Harmonia,
The Kinks,
John Foxx,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T.S.O.L.,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
New Order,
Scratch Acid,
The Last Poets,
Minor Threat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Remains,
Smog,
Tres Demented,
Sugar Minott,
Joy Division,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeff Lynne,
Davy DMX,
The Offenders,
Theoretical Girls,
Parry Music,
Minnie Riperton,
Brick,
The Raincoats,
Popol Vuh,
Pole,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New York Dolls,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Sherman,
the Swans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Matthew Halsall,
Minny Pops,
the Germs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swell Maps,
DJ Sneak,
The Saints,
The Young Rascals,
Joe Finger,
Sound Behaviour,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quadrant,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.