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 Uzbekistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Model 500 to the rock 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Minor Threat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barclay James Harvest,
Funkadelic,
The Busters,
The Real Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joy Division,
Wire,
Mars,
Stiv Bators,
Cameo,
Babytalk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
T.S.O.L.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sugar Minott,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eddi Front,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Talk Talk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jacques Brel,
Bill Near,
Sandy B,
Max Romeo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Reagan Youth,
Arab on Radar,
The Barracudas,
Organ,
The Offenders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
a-ha,
Fat Boys,
Excepter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zapp,
Davy DMX,
The Misunderstood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thee Headcoats,
Rufus Thomas,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faraquet,
Ultra Naté,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Association,
Erykah Badu,
Fad Gadget,
Idris Muhammad,
Al Stewart,
Warren Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Main Source,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.