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 South Africa and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
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 arpeggiator 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 Tommy Roe to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Niagra,
Deadbeat,
Deakin,
T. Rex,
Crispy Ambulance,
Donald Byrd,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Green,
Sandy B,
The Toasters,
Johnny Clarke,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pantytec,
Moss Icon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wasted Youth,
Malaria!,
The Electric Prunes,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Saccharine Trust,
Section 25,
Isaac Hayes,
Ornette Coleman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Loose Ends,
Dennis Brown,
Parry Music,
Faraquet,
Yazoo,
Bluetip,
Mission of Burma,
Quantec,
Pantaleimon,
Carl Craig,
The Fall,
Anakelly,
T.S.O.L.,
Popol Vuh,
Make Up,
Adolescents,
Moby Grape,
Organ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Henry Cow,
Pole,
Bob Dylan,
The Victims,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Order,
Smog,
the Normal,
48th St. Collective,
Bush Tetras,
Gang of Four,
Blake Baxter,
Alton Ellis,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
Bootsy Collins,
Tubeway Army,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.