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 Cape Verde and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the punk 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Easy Going,
Sarah Menescal,
Kayak,
the Human League,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Max Romeo,
Joy Division,
The Toasters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Angry Samoans,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rufus Thomas,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
Sister Nancy,
Altered Images,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
Delta 5,
Bush Tetras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soft Cell,
The Barracudas,
The Music Machine,
Marvin Gaye,
Deepchord,
Tommy Roe,
Depeche Mode,
The Mummies,
Radiohead,
Iggy Pop,
Janne Schatter,
Duran Duran,
Kerrie Biddell,
DNA,
The Golliwogs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kenny Larkin,
Alison Limerick,
Buzzcocks,
The Evens,
Lightning Bolt,
World's Most,
U.S. Maple,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacob Miller,
Eden Ahbez,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
R.M.O.,
Ornette Coleman,
Aloha Tigers,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
Brass Construction,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.