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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar 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 Wings to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Parry Music,
8 Eyed Spy,
AZ,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultra Naté,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Swans,
The Gun Club,
Funky Four + One,
Joyce Sims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Glenn Branca,
New Order,
World's Most,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Sherman,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mojo Men,
Swell Maps,
The Tremeloes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Doors,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nik Kershaw,
Leonard Cohen,
Cybotron,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Names,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cecil Taylor,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eddi Front,
Delta 5,
Infiniti,
Magazine,
Grey Daturas,
Franke,
The Blues Magoos,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cameo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moss Icon,
Dennis Brown,
Y Pants,
Audionom,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bob Dylan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ken Boothe,
Eurythmics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fluxion,
The Fugs,
UT,
Funkadelic,
Ralphi Rosario,
Monolake,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Simply Red,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.