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 Kuwait and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lungfish to the grunge 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Terry Callier,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Morten Harket,
Iggy Pop,
Man Parrish,
Section 25,
Barrington Levy,
Bush Tetras,
Model 500,
Symarip,
Popol Vuh,
The Last Poets,
Michelle Simonal,
Visage,
Hardrive,
Johnny Clarke,
Japan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Maurizio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Cale,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tubeway Army,
The Gories,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Q65,
The Moody Blues,
Wings,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moss Icon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Donny Hathaway,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Lydon,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mummies,
Television Personalities,
Make Up,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cluster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Severed Heads,
The Dirtbombs,
Dennis Brown,
Stockholm Monsters,
Desert Stars,
Arcadia,
The Cure,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
Alton Ellis,
Dave Gahan,
Mark Hollis,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Christie,
Parry Music,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.