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 Costa Rica and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 David McCallum to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Barrington Levy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Main Source,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Knickerbockers,
Bob Dylan,
Graham Central Station,
The Vogues,
The Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
the Human League,
Erykah Badu,
Second Layer,
ABBA,
Inner City,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Joensuu 1685,
Slave,
Severed Heads,
Deadbeat,
Sandy B,
The Five Americans,
The Techniques,
Fatback Band,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Ultra Naté,
Guru Guru,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Bar-Kays,
Audionom,
PIL,
Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mars,
Harry Pussy,
Sam Rivers,
Howard Jones,
Scrapy,
Danielle Patucci,
The Grass Roots,
the Sonics,
Hot Snakes,
Byron Stingily,
Das Ding,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marvin Gaye,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Janne Schatter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pole,
the Germs,
Motorama,
Bootsy Collins,
Josef K,
The Misunderstood,
cv313,
Sarah Menescal,
Flash Fearless,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.