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 Czech Republic and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 Mark Hollis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ossler,
Jeff Lynne,
Marine Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faust,
Livin' Joy,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lungfish,
Banda Bassotti,
Stereo Dub,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Young Rascals,
Interpol,
Moss Icon,
Sugar Minott,
Second Layer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Little Man,
Duran Duran,
Eric Copeland,
Franke,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Thompson Twins,
The Music Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-102,
Byron Stingily,
Y Pants,
Minnie Riperton,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hot Snakes,
Pussy Galore,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Isaac Hayes,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Cale,
Eden Ahbez,
Agent Orange,
Gastr Del Sol,
Angry Samoans,
Basic Channel,
The Zeros,
The Doobie Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
Crime,
Rekid,
Mark Hollis,
The Tremeloes,
DNA,
Cameo,
Rod Modell,
Derrick May,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Misunderstood,
Quantec,
K-Klass,
Skaos,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.