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 Suriname 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Don Cherry to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Howard Jones,
Main Source,
Matthew Bourne,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Young Rascals,
Skarface,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moby Grape,
Man Parrish,
the Human League,
The Grass Roots,
The Saints,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalann,
Deepchord,
Second Layer,
The Real Kids,
Gang of Four,
Mantronix,
John Lydon,
Bauhaus,
Black Sheep,
Eric Copeland,
Camberwell Now,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tom Boy,
Nico,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Görl,
Black Flag,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
Pantytec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Derrick May,
Funky Four + One,
Pet Shop Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Prunes,
Soft Machine,
The Standells,
Minnie Riperton,
Albert Ayler,
Crooked Eye,
Jandek,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Das Ding,
The Alarm Clocks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Invisible,
Sex Pistols,
Los Fastidios,
Joy Division,
the Sonics,
The Pop Group,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eli Mardock,
Barclay James Harvest,
Judy Mowatt,
Alton Ellis,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.