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 Uganda and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Slits to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ornette Coleman,
Saccharine Trust,
Sex Pistols,
Shoche,
Scrapy,
The Red Krayola,
Michelle Simonal,
Ronnie Foster,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Skatalites,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spoonie Gee,
Gerry Rafferty,
Darondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maurizio,
The Sonics,
Graham Central Station,
Byron Stingily,
Roxy Music,
Iggy Pop,
Barrington Levy,
The Evens,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Young Rascals,
Heaven 17,
Scratch Acid,
Bill Near,
Howard Jones,
Max Romeo,
These Immortal Souls,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Remains,
Charles Mingus,
Barbara Tucker,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Grass Roots,
The Offenders,
Brand Nubian,
Wolf Eyes,
The Five Americans,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Barry Ungar,
Delta 5,
Half Japanese,
The United States of America,
Soulsonic Force,
Pantaleimon,
DJ Style,
The Move,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultravox,
The Fall,
Bang On A Can,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.