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 Mongolia and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Derrick Morgan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Public Enemy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Starr,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harry Pussy,
The Slits,
Bill Wells,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chris Corsano,
The Raincoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Echospace,
Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Desert Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
Saccharine Trust,
Smog,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Wyatt,
Junior Murvin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maleditus Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fortunes,
Zero Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hashim,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
Aloha Tigers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Intrusion,
Amon Düül II,
Skarface,
The Skatalites,
Arab on Radar,
UT,
Surgeon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bad Manners,
Colin Newman,
Connie Case,
F. McDonald,
Clear Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Heaven 17,
Magma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.