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 Slovenia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 The Litter to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
The Kinks,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
Yazoo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Busters,
Rekid,
Donny Hathaway,
Darondo,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Janne Schatter,
Angry Samoans,
The Monks,
Agitation Free,
The Last Poets,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
Nik Kershaw,
Jerry Gold Smith,
K-Klass,
Banda Bassotti,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang On A Can,
The Happenings,
Television,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Bananas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Camberwell Now,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rufus Thomas,
KRS-One,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Basic Channel,
ABBA,
Graham Central Station,
Hashim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pere Ubu,
Alphaville,
Ultra Naté,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Womack,
The Trojans,
Reagan Youth,
Sister Nancy,
Don Cherry,
The Music Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
The Doors,
The Toasters,
Junior Murvin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minnie Riperton,
Pierre Henry,
Charles Mingus,
Essential Logic,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.