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 Korea North and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Vainqueur to the electroclash 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
A Certain Ratio,
Harmonia,
Flipper,
Brick,
Arcadia,
Kurtis Blow,
Flash Fearless,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Lakeside,
Skaos,
DJ Sneak,
Echospace,
Gichy Dan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Funkadelic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Youth Brigade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
the Soft Cell,
MC5,
Ultra Naté,
Jacques Brel,
John Cale,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soul II Soul,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Seeds,
Warren Ellis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oneida,
Yaz,
Sister Nancy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Darondo,
The Blackbyrds,
Matthew Bourne,
Los Fastidios,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Junior Murvin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Basic Channel,
The Sound,
Y Pants,
Scion,
Throbbing Gristle,
James White and The Blacks,
T.S.O.L.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Janne Schatter,
Marmalade,
Zapp,
Gabor Szabo,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.