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 Manila.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Johnny Clarke to the jazz 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Minutemen,
The Monochrome Set,
Siglo XX,
Moss Icon,
Banda Bassotti,
Rites of Spring,
Trumans Water,
Kerri Chandler,
DNA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fad Gadget,
Royal Trux,
Tropical Tobacco,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ponytail,
Section 25,
Gichy Dan,
The Evens,
La Düsseldorf,
Tommy Roe,
Scott Walker,
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
Schoolly D,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
Das Ding,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soul II Soul,
Funky Four + One,
Lalo Schifrin,
Laurel Aitken,
The Human League,
Severed Heads,
Spandau Ballet,
Scan 7,
Harpers Bizarre,
David Bowie,
the Sonics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Star Department,
H. Thieme,
Theoretical Girls,
F. McDonald,
Interpol,
Khruangbin,
Ten City,
The Standells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
June of 44,
Angry Samoans,
Saccharine Trust,
Terry Callier,
Fort Wilson Riot,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Todd Rundgren,
Bob Dylan,
Colin Newman,
Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
In Retrospect,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.