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 Ireland and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 & Kría Brekkan to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Anthony Braxton,
Flash Fearless,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cecil Taylor,
Terry Callier,
Ten City,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Standells,
Amon Düül II,
F. McDonald,
Clear Light,
New Age Steppers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jimmy McGriff,
FM Einheit,
The Blackbyrds,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maleditus Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Duran Duran,
Stiv Bators,
Section 25,
Make Up,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Soft Cell,
Pierre Henry,
Rotary Connection,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
Minny Pops,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cowsills,
Fort Wilson Riot,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
The Fugs,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pretty Things,
Radiohead,
Japan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Heaven 17,
Marine Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Chrome,
Sugar Minott,
Gichy Dan,
Lower 48,
Iggy Pop,
Davy DMX,
Flipper,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Smiths,
The Gun Club,
Nirvana,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Black Dice,
Hardrive,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.