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 Maldives and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo 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 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 Girls At Our Best! to the grime 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Faraquet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Sherman,
Swans,
Sound Behaviour,
Newcleus,
Aswad,
Ken Boothe,
Black Pus,
Dawn Penn,
MC5,
Nas,
Dual Sessions,
Vainqueur,
Ossler,
The Five Americans,
Y Pants,
T. Rex,
Nirvana,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Slave,
Lakeside,
Robert Görl,
The Searchers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Residents,
Cluster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
Kayak,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Buckinghams,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Human League,
Deadbeat,
Fluxion,
Loose Ends,
Anakelly,
F. McDonald,
Sixth Finger,
Sam Rivers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pussy Galore,
Godley & Creme,
Warren Ellis,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
Ronnie Foster,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mojo Men,
Section 25,
Boredoms,
Quando Quango,
Yellowson,
Jacob Miller,
Jawbox,
CMW,
James White and The Blacks,
Interpol,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.