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 Romania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Gang Dance to the disco 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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,
World's Most,
B.T. Express,
Panda Bear,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deepchord,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Average White Band,
Black Pus,
L. Decosne,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Wake,
Pussy Galore,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fire Engines,
Rufus Thomas,
Connie Case,
Lou Reed,
Hardrive,
The Golliwogs,
The Move,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pagans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Young Marble Giants,
The Buckinghams,
the Soft Cell,
Pole,
Smog,
The Evens,
Joe Smooth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric Copeland,
Grauzone,
Cal Tjader,
Scratch Acid,
Cluster,
Groovy Waters,
Eve St. Jones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Womack,
Minny Pops,
Marvin Gaye,
The Knickerbockers,
Thee Headcoats,
Thompson Twins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Altered Images,
Funkadelic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cramps,
Charles Mingus,
Minutemen,
10cc,
La Düsseldorf,
Warsaw,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Techniques,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.