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 Gambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Buckinghams to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
David Bowie,
L. Decosne,
Bill Near,
T. Rex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Con Funk Shun,
Connie Case,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Au Pairs,
Cal Tjader,
Franke,
Buzzcocks,
Absolute Body Control,
Lower 48,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Durutti Column,
Black Moon,
Yaz,
Kas Product,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
the Normal,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bad Manners,
Glenn Branca,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moody Blues,
Magma,
Lou Reed,
the Bar-Kays,
Das Ding,
Smog,
Danielle Patucci,
Siglo XX,
Average White Band,
Mr. Review,
Bill Wells,
Echospace,
The Standells,
Gang Green,
Toni Rubio,
Pulsallama,
AZ,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Chris & Cosey,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Kinks,
the Sonics,
ABC,
Tres Demented,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smiths,
Jawbox,
Cecil Taylor,
Yellowson,
Albert Ayler,
Tommy Roe,
Jimmy McGriff,
MDC,
The Gories,
Suicide,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.