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 Greece and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Holt to the techno 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
A Certain Ratio,
Jesper Dahlback,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faust,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wings,
the Fania All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Angry Samoans,
The Kinks,
AZ,
Kerrie Biddell,
World's Most,
Anthony Braxton,
Roy Ayers,
Electric Prunes,
Brick,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Whodini,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Groovy Waters,
Goldenarms,
Marc Almond,
Country Teasers,
kango's stein massive,
Ohio Players,
Graham Central Station,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blake Baxter,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Starr,
The Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
DNA,
The Gladiators,
the Swans,
KRS-One,
Ludus,
Soft Machine,
Tubeway Army,
Dawn Penn,
Scott Walker,
The Black Dice,
The Durutti Column,
Archie Shepp,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Moon,
Eddi Front,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Massinfluence,
Harry Pussy,
Schoolly D,
The Victims,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Erasure,
Easy Going,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joyce Sims,
The Doors,
the Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.