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 Indonesia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Sixth Finger,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fugazi,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marc Almond,
The Moody Blues,
Thee Headcoats,
Minny Pops,
The Litter,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gun Club,
Faraquet,
Stetsasonic,
Jesper Dahlback,
Country Teasers,
Camberwell Now,
the Sonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Lakeside,
Jacob Miller,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fear,
The Monks,
The Saints,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
The Busters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Soft Cell,
The Cowsills,
Suburban Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crispy Ambulance,
Von Mondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mandrill,
Electric Prunes,
The Smiths,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Bar-Kays,
Rosa Yemen,
Joe Finger,
Carl Craig,
David Axelrod,
Ludus,
Tears for Fears,
Slave,
K-Klass,
The Knickerbockers,
Main Source,
Inner City,
Matthew Bourne,
Barclay James Harvest,
James White and The Blacks,
Accadde A,
Barbara Tucker,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.