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 Latvia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Searchers to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
James Chance & The Contortions,
8 Eyed Spy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Qualms,
Pierre Henry,
the Fania All-Stars,
B.T. Express,
OOIOO,
The Evens,
Eric Copeland,
Clear Light,
Suicide,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Green,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mo-Dettes,
The Flesh Eaters,
LL Cool J,
Freddie Wadling,
The American Breed,
Blossom Toes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Alton Ellis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Motions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ponytail,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Move,
Erasure,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bauhaus,
Mr. Review,
Pole,
Pagans,
The Moleskins,
Skaos,
Mars,
Negative Approach,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nirvana,
New Age Steppers,
Ossler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Surgeon,
Vladislav Delay,
the Normal,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Lydon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Procol Harum,
Thee Headcoats,
Gabor Szabo,
Wasted Youth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Toasters,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.