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 Albania and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Patti Smith to the grunge 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
The Blues Magoos,
It's A Beautiful Day,
kango's stein massive,
Hoover,
Gong,
Fear,
D'Angelo,
Ornette Coleman,
the Germs,
Slave,
Sam Rivers,
Dennis Brown,
Marc Almond,
Erasure,
Mandrill,
Freddie Wadling,
Tres Demented,
Joensuu 1685,
The Electric Prunes,
Wings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kayak,
Quantec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Slits,
Alice Coltrane,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
The New Christs,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
John Holt,
Spandau Ballet,
Deadbeat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aural Exciters,
Stereo Dub,
The Barracudas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fugs,
Donny Hathaway,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry's Kids,
The Selecter,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Can,
Robert Hood,
Byron Stingily,
These Immortal Souls,
Grey Daturas,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Henry Cow,
The Sonics,
The Red Krayola,
Guru Guru,
Barbara Tucker,
Yaz,
Terrestrial Tones,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.