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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Vladislav Delay to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Bluetip,
Stereo Dub,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Urselle,
Radio Birdman,
Parry Music,
Scott Walker,
The Slits,
Charles Mingus,
Brick,
Warsaw,
Symarip,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sällskapet,
Porter Ricks,
Sight & Sound,
Mars,
MDC,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-Ray Spex,
Drive Like Jehu,
Howard Jones,
Tim Buckley,
Nas,
Anthony Braxton,
Camberwell Now,
Boredoms,
Tres Demented,
Lou Christie,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moody Blues,
Anakelly,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Soft Cell,
Barry Ungar,
Scion,
The Fugs,
Procol Harum,
Tommy Roe,
Kayak,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Trojans,
The Moleskins,
Lyres,
The Stooges,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Real Kids,
Black Flag,
Youth Brigade,
Das Ding,
Lindisfarne,
Idris Muhammad,
Audionom,
Amazonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Pus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.