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 Iceland and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes 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 DJ Sneak to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Cal Tjader,
The Black Dice,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fad Gadget,
Sparks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sarah Menescal,
Faust,
Fela Kuti,
Connie Case,
Public Image Ltd.,
David McCallum,
Lucky Dragons,
Khruangbin,
The Toasters,
The Standells,
Henry Cow,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
Masters at Work,
The Doobie Brothers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pussy Galore,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q65,
Skarface,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The American Breed,
Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eddi Front,
Sugar Minott,
Von Mondo,
Black Bananas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wasted Youth,
Black Flag,
Radiohead,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantytec,
Zero Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Mantronix,
The Busters,
Alice Coltrane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Christie,
Tubeway Army,
The Slackers,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.