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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rosa Yemen to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Camouflage,
Heaven 17,
Mantronix,
Technova,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
Au Pairs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joy Division,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
Swell Maps,
Rotary Connection,
The J.B.'s,
In Retrospect,
Althea and Donna,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yazoo,
Jandek,
Arcadia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
James White and The Blacks,
The Zeros,
Adolescents,
ABBA,
Radiohead,
Television Personalities,
Johnny Clarke,
Maurizio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harmonia,
Amon Düül,
Das Ding,
Scientists,
Underground Resistance,
Laurel Aitken,
Minny Pops,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
R.M.O.,
Neil Young,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultra Naté,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Starr,
Suburban Knight,
Quantec,
The Dirtbombs,
Marvin Gaye,
Susan Cadogan,
Country Teasers,
Accadde A,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gong,
These Immortal Souls,
Wally Richardson,
The Dead C,
World's Most,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Andrew Hill,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.