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 Slovenia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Half Japanese to the rock 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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Blossom Toes,
Buzzcocks,
Gichy Dan,
Whodini,
The Wake,
The American Breed,
KRS-One,
Jeff Mills,
Moby Grape,
Skarface,
Crispian St. Peters,
Donald Byrd,
Bad Manners,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Y Pants,
Bluetip,
John Foxx,
Tim Buckley,
MDC,
DJ Sneak,
The Five Americans,
Procol Harum,
Scratch Acid,
10cc,
Jeff Lynne,
Erykah Badu,
Second Layer,
Mars,
Slick Rick,
The Kinks,
Arcadia,
Spoonie Gee,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yazoo,
The Searchers,
Lungfish,
Fear,
Anthony Braxton,
June Days,
Amazonics,
Howard Jones,
Max Romeo,
Pulsallama,
The Evens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sister Nancy,
Andrew Hill,
the Slits,
The Misunderstood,
Dennis Brown,
ABBA,
This Heat,
Talk Talk,
Jesper Dahlback,
Vladislav Delay,
Tropical Tobacco,
Royal Trux,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Index,
Brothers Johnson,
The Martian,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.