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 Cyprus and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Matthew Bourne to the rap 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy Collins,
Metal Thangz,
Rod Modell,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Sound,
X-101,
John Coltrane,
The Music Machine,
Chrome,
Kaleidoscope,
Spoonie Gee,
Glambeats Corp.,
UT,
The Pop Group,
Yellowson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jawbox,
Eddi Front,
Deadbeat,
Darondo,
Fat Boys,
The Standells,
Soft Machine,
Panda Bear,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rekid,
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
The Leaves,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Visage,
Grauzone,
Moby Grape,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kas Product,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Unwound,
the Sonics,
Roy Ayers,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Al Stewart,
Can,
The Wake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Amon Düül,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Certain Ratio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Whodini,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Suicide,
Faraquet,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.