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 Columbus.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Byron Stingily to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Ice-T,
Trumans Water,
Maleditus Sound,
June Days,
Roger Hodgson,
Sarah Menescal,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-102,
Television Personalities,
Kayak,
T. Rex,
Alice Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Machine,
the Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
Panda Bear,
Leonard Cohen,
Derrick May,
Maurizio,
B.T. Express,
E-Dancer,
Malaria!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Country Teasers,
Blake Baxter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Music Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Barrington Levy,
Aswad,
Pharoah Sanders,
Whodini,
Nils Olav,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kas Product,
Freddie Wadling,
Cheater Slicks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shuggie Otis,
The Motions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Howard Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Gang of Four,
Nik Kershaw,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Oneida,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric Dolphy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultravox,
Rapeman,
Camberwell Now,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.