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 Niger and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 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 The Names to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Arcadia,
The Gun Club,
The Happenings,
Simply Red,
Main Source,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Von Mondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Divine Comedy,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soul II Soul,
Glambeats Corp.,
Panda Bear,
Barry Ungar,
Shoche,
Sonic Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Erasure,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ludus,
Aswad,
Flash Fearless,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Byrd,
Nirvana,
CMW,
The Mummies,
DJ Style,
Deakin,
Cameo,
The Gladiators,
Ohio Players,
The Leaves,
Ultra Naté,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Tremeloes,
The Gap Band,
Supertramp,
Rapeman,
Massinfluence,
Wire,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
The Grass Roots,
The Black Dice,
Skaos,
Todd Terry,
Q65,
The Wake,
Prince Buster,
Donny Hathaway,
The Golliwogs,
The Music Machine,
Gastr Del Sol,
James White and The Blacks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Matthew Halsall,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.