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 Niger and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Harry Pussy to the crunk 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
the Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
The Music Machine,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dead C,
Basic Channel,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cowsills,
Boredoms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fuzztones,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Doors,
The Stooges,
Tres Demented,
Aloha Tigers,
Terry Callier,
Main Source,
Wolf Eyes,
Dave Gahan,
Negative Approach,
Jawbox,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pussy Galore,
Nik Kershaw,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
Mark Hollis,
Alison Limerick,
Talk Talk,
Lindisfarne,
Shuggie Otis,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dirtbombs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Guru Guru,
Massinfluence,
Porter Ricks,
The Leaves,
Delon & Dalcan,
Deakin,
Graham Central Station,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Franke,
June Days,
Wally Richardson,
Chris & Cosey,
Aswad,
Gong,
Iggy Pop,
DJ Style,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.