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 Denmark and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobby Womack to the grime 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Dead Boys,
The Busters,
The J.B.'s,
Scrapy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeru the Damaja,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Inner City,
the Association,
Don Cherry,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantaleimon,
Lalann,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dark Day,
Colin Newman,
The Kinks,
The Fugs,
Spandau Ballet,
Los Fastidios,
Black Sheep,
Albert Ayler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Index,
U.S. Maple,
Rakim,
Moebius,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Doors,
Cheater Slicks,
Little Man,
Judy Mowatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lakeside,
Reagan Youth,
Symarip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Move,
The Fall,
Blossom Toes,
Severed Heads,
The Grass Roots,
Bush Tetras,
Smog,
Junior Murvin,
Ponytail,
The Angels of Light,
The Names,
Sällskapet,
Sixth Finger,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fluxion,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nation of Ulysses,
Stetsasonic,
The Skatalites,
Wolf Eyes,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.