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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Excepter to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Gang of Four,
Goldenarms,
Visage,
The Leaves,
Camouflage,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Kinks,
The Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Pus,
Pierre Henry,
Rites of Spring,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Smoke,
Zero Boys,
Ossler,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Certain Ratio,
ABBA,
The Fall,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
Eric Dolphy,
Shoche,
Carl Craig,
The Moleskins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Maleditus Sound,
The Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mission of Burma,
T. Rex,
Girls At Our Best!,
MDC,
John Lydon,
China Crisis,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Sherman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
Ultra Naté,
The Smiths,
The Skatalites,
Mary Jane Girls,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MC5,
Althea and Donna,
Alton Ellis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ice-T,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Maurizio,
Boz Scaggs,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Modern Lovers,
K-Klass,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.