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 Mauritania and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Donny Hathaway 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Excepter,
cv313,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mark Hollis,
The Mojo Men,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crime,
The Pretty Things,
Sex Pistols,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Hood,
Severed Heads,
Sly & The Family Stone,
JFA,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faraquet,
Arab on Radar,
ABBA,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Chris Corsano,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sugar Minott,
Nik Kershaw,
Ralphi Rosario,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stiv Bators,
The Barracudas,
Lakeside,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
T. Rex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cal Tjader,
Das Ding,
Marmalade,
The Golliwogs,
Grey Daturas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Flamin' Groovies,
CMW,
Scion,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sam Rivers,
Gang of Four,
Popol Vuh,
The Count Five,
Roxy Music,
Nirvana,
Eddi Front,
Brick,
Soul Sonic Force,
Danielle Patucci,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.