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 Bhutan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 Blake Baxter to the grime 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
John Cale,
Deepchord,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slits,
Tommy Roe,
The Cure,
Peter & Gordon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Susan Cadogan,
Piero Umiliani,
K-Klass,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sandy B,
Joe Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Christie,
Curtis Mayfield,
Motorama,
Neil Young,
Judy Mowatt,
Joey Negro,
Newcleus,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
The Grass Roots,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New Order,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barry Ungar,
the Human League,
Arab on Radar,
Junior Murvin,
The Red Krayola,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Normal,
Minny Pops,
Carl Craig,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Negative Approach,
Whodini,
a-ha,
Eve St. Jones,
Desert Stars,
Scratch Acid,
The J.B.'s,
Loose Ends,
Eric Copeland,
Severed Heads,
Porter Ricks,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Pop Group,
Sugar Minott,
Harry Pussy,
Magma,
E-Dancer,
Hot Snakes,
The Residents,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.