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 Cuba and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Raincoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
The Last Poets,
The Searchers,
MDC,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Pus,
Pere Ubu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Severed Heads,
Pole,
The Barracudas,
The Music Machine,
Bootsy Collins,
Pussy Galore,
Au Pairs,
the Germs,
AZ,
Skriet,
Drexciya,
Eve St. Jones,
Intrusion,
Junior Murvin,
UT,
Dark Day,
Lalann,
Todd Rundgren,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lucky Dragons,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Human League,
T.S.O.L.,
Radio Birdman,
JFA,
the Bar-Kays,
Curtis Mayfield,
Anakelly,
Bobby Hutcherson,
David Bowie,
Fatback Band,
PIL,
Grauzone,
Unwound,
The Grass Roots,
Bang On A Can,
Smog,
the Normal,
Quadrant,
Ronan,
H. Thieme,
The Mojo Men,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Womack,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Durutti Column,
Letta Mbulu,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.