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 Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Barclay James Harvest to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Eli Mardock,
Buzzcocks,
Glenn Branca,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sound Behaviour,
Sugar Minott,
Skriet,
Echospace,
Derrick Morgan,
cv313,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New York Dolls,
Aaron Thompson,
Newcleus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Derrick May,
The Birthday Party,
Quadrant,
AZ,
Henry Cow,
Fela Kuti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cameo,
Idris Muhammad,
Blake Baxter,
The Trojans,
Jeff Lynne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Moebius,
Curtis Mayfield,
Depeche Mode,
Brass Construction,
Groovy Waters,
The Wake,
The Five Americans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Schoolly D,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Invisible,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Remains,
Jerry's Kids,
Pharoah Sanders,
Iggy Pop,
Technova,
X-102,
Joe Smooth,
Cluster,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mission of Burma,
Pierre Henry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Outsiders,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.