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 Palau and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dawn Penn to the rock 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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rod Modell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skriet,
Todd Rundgren,
Godley & Creme,
a-ha,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Halsall,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Livin' Joy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quando Quango,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vainqueur,
Sex Pistols,
Pole,
Echospace,
Rufus Thomas,
Zapp,
Brothers Johnson,
Scientists,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Parry Music,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mojo Men,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Offenders,
Infiniti,
Ohio Players,
The Searchers,
Dave Gahan,
Easy Going,
Au Pairs,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
Wings,
Yellowson,
Mission of Burma,
OOIOO,
Dorothy Ashby,
One Last Wish,
Albert Ayler,
Lyres,
Stetsasonic,
Suicide,
The Seeds,
David Bowie,
Scott Walker,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
The Standells,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Walker Brothers,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.