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 Papua New Guinea and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 kango's stein massive to the funk 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Quando Quango,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick Morgan,
Das Ding,
Freddie Wadling,
Darondo,
Lalann,
Swell Maps,
The Fugs,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Grass Roots,
Duran Duran,
Excepter,
The Last Poets,
Juan Atkins,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Television Personalities,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moleskins,
China Crisis,
Banda Bassotti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gabor Szabo,
New York Dolls,
Amon Düül II,
The Zeros,
Radio Birdman,
A Certain Ratio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Khruangbin,
Inner City,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crime,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arcadia,
The Red Krayola,
JFA,
Bush Tetras,
Arab on Radar,
Funky Four + One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tres Demented,
Cal Tjader,
Grey Daturas,
Sugar Minott,
Nas,
Malaria!,
Ituana,
Flipper,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Womack,
Porter Ricks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vainqueur,
Donny Hathaway,
kango's stein massive,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.