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 Indonesia and from Edmonton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Man Parrish 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
The Mummies,
The Offenders,
Camouflage,
Mad Mike,
The Music Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
Thompson Twins,
Sandy B,
Niagra,
Eddi Front,
H. Thieme,
John Foxx,
The Skatalites,
The Modern Lovers,
Crooked Eye,
Ken Boothe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
The Toasters,
A Certain Ratio,
The Standells,
Funky Four + One,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mojo Men,
Nation of Ulysses,
Johnny Osbourne,
Iggy Pop,
New Age Steppers,
Kas Product,
Eric Copeland,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Clear Light,
X-Ray Spex,
Bad Manners,
The Electric Prunes,
Bill Wells,
Grauzone,
Scion,
the Human League,
Radio Birdman,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
Nick Fraelich,
Siglo XX,
Lower 48,
Cluster,
Quantec,
Urselle,
the Soft Cell,
Todd Terry,
a-ha,
Bizarre Inc.,
Prince Buster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bluetip,
Amazonics,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.