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 East Timor and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Litter 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
Thee Headcoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gladiators,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sound,
The Vogues,
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
Flipper,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cramps,
Davy DMX,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Audionom,
Gang Green,
Susan Cadogan,
Kaleidoscope,
Rufus Thomas,
Max Romeo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Heaven 17,
The Grass Roots,
The Invisible,
Skaos,
The Velvet Underground,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
Junior Murvin,
Aloha Tigers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Donald Byrd,
The Five Americans,
Fad Gadget,
Camouflage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grey Daturas,
Kayak,
James Chance & The Contortions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Residents,
Michelle Simonal,
Talk Talk,
Pierre Henry,
Dead Boys,
Grauzone,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monks,
Black Bananas,
Quadrant,
Joey Negro,
The Black Dice,
New Order,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.