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 Dominica and from Lagos.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Fear,
Bluetip,
Godley & Creme,
Circle Jerks,
Oneida,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Freddie Wadling,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Icehouse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pere Ubu,
Panda Bear,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Funkadelic,
The Pop Group,
8 Eyed Spy,
Young Marble Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
Tres Demented,
Slick Rick,
Eve St. Jones,
Sandy B,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dead Boys,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crime,
Organ,
Porter Ricks,
The Smiths,
Ken Boothe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Terry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Warren Ellis,
Marvin Gaye,
H. Thieme,
Animal Collective,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fugazi,
Bob Dylan,
Connie Case,
Joyce Sims,
The Raincoats,
Tubeway Army,
Derrick Morgan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Knickerbockers,
Funky Four + One,
Brand Nubian,
Wasted Youth,
Adolescents,
Jacques Brel,
Jeff Mills,
Chrome,
Niagra,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of 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.