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 El Salvador and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar 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 Ohio Players to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Rundgren,
a-ha,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric Copeland,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scott Walker,
The Durutti Column,
Depeche Mode,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Index,
The Dead C,
Graham Central Station,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
Gong,
Johnny Osbourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Funkadelic,
Jerry's Kids,
Pagans,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Clarke,
Hasil Adkins,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Sneak,
Bush Tetras,
Carl Craig,
the Soft Cell,
Skarface,
Todd Terry,
Rapeman,
Radio Birdman,
Swell Maps,
Eden Ahbez,
Magazine,
Tubeway Army,
Dennis Brown,
Patti Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Kas Product,
Maurizio,
Youth Brigade,
One Last Wish,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Byrd,
Liliput,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Cale,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wally Richardson,
Section 25,
Crash Course in Science,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Womack,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.