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 Sudan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Shuggie Otis to the grime 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Grey Daturas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Victims,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Saccharine Trust,
John Foxx,
H. Thieme,
Outsiders,
Buzzcocks,
Mad Mike,
Bauhaus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monolake,
Fluxion,
Joe Finger,
Maurizio,
Harmonia,
Johnny Osbourne,
James White and The Blacks,
Fela Kuti,
Wings,
Patti Smith,
Piero Umiliani,
Ronan,
Khruangbin,
Slave,
Delta 5,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
Bluetip,
The Blackbyrds,
Drive Like Jehu,
China Crisis,
Bill Wells,
Newcleus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sight & Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Graham Central Station,
Leonard Cohen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Urselle,
Junior Murvin,
Carl Craig,
Laurel Aitken,
The New Christs,
Angry Samoans,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Remains,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Fad Gadget,
The Smiths,
Interpol,
The Dead C,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bush Tetras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Darondo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.