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 Egypt and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Derrick Morgan to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Magma,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
The J.B.'s,
Procol Harum,
Yellowson,
Donny Hathaway,
Yazoo,
New York Dolls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deepchord,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Associates,
Scan 7,
Mission of Burma,
Peter & Gordon,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
Supertramp,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eric B and Rakim,
JFA,
Soft Machine,
Mad Mike,
Sixth Finger,
Pole,
The Human League,
the Slits,
The Raincoats,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roy Ayers,
Charles Mingus,
The Barracudas,
Grey Daturas,
Pantytec,
the Normal,
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T. Rex,
DJ Sneak,
La Düsseldorf,
Ossler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Guru Guru,
Cecil Taylor,
Technova,
Funkadelic,
the Sonics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fire Engines,
Anthony Braxton,
The Index,
The Martian,
Terrestrial Tones,
New Age Steppers,
Deadbeat,
Hot Snakes,
Lower 48,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scientists,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.