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 Macedonia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sparks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Procol Harum,
the Swans,
Groovy Waters,
John Holt,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Germs,
Rapeman,
the Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pole,
Stiv Bators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dawn Penn,
Youth Brigade,
Cluster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Smog,
Sarah Menescal,
June of 44,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quadrant,
Mantronix,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Johnny Osbourne,
EPMD,
Sam Rivers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Donald Byrd,
Jacob Miller,
Yellowson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fire Engines,
Stereo Dub,
Desert Stars,
Trumans Water,
Dark Day,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Monks,
Brick,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mr. Review,
Porter Ricks,
Aswad,
Basic Channel,
Prince Buster,
The Techniques,
Lakeside,
Harmonia,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hoover,
Saccharine Trust,
Minnie Riperton,
PIL,
Can,
The Wake,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
The Neon Judgement,
Eve St. Jones,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.