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 Gabon and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Holger Czukay 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 Television to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Jacob Miller,
Absolute Body Control,
Main Source,
The Knickerbockers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Flag,
A Certain Ratio,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
Graham Central Station,
Country Teasers,
Don Cherry,
Eric Copeland,
The Grass Roots,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Y Pants,
Sam Rivers,
Camouflage,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Eden Ahbez,
The Real Kids,
Crooked Eye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Young Marble Giants,
Yellowson,
Bad Manners,
Joey Negro,
Gang Green,
Cymande,
La Düsseldorf,
Albert Ayler,
Procol Harum,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
Icehouse,
Darondo,
The Cure,
Barry Ungar,
Liliput,
Ohio Players,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alison Limerick,
the Swans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pierre Henry,
The Cowsills,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Andrew Hill,
Minor Threat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DJ Sneak,
Supertramp,
Ultimate Spinach,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.