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 Uzbekistan and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blake Baxter to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Mission of Burma,
PIL,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Trojans,
Camouflage,
Television,
Josef K,
Khruangbin,
Sonic Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blackbyrds,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cal Tjader,
Johnny Clarke,
Girls At Our Best!,
The New Christs,
Soft Cell,
JFA,
The Flesh Eaters,
K-Klass,
Piero Umiliani,
Sun City Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shuggie Otis,
Alice Coltrane,
Lyres,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Y Pants,
Isaac Hayes,
Accadde A,
DJ Style,
Monolake,
The Index,
Black Sheep,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
Half Japanese,
Bad Manners,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joey Negro,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mandrill,
Country Teasers,
Nick Fraelich,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Scion,
The Searchers,
the Slits,
Faust,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maurizio,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.