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 Portugal and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Mad Mike,
Brick,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Womack,
The Walker Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Fad Gadget,
The Moody Blues,
Ten City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reagan Youth,
The Index,
Roy Ayers,
Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joyce Sims,
Derrick May,
Massinfluence,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hasil Adkins,
Ken Boothe,
Gastr Del Sol,
Heaven 17,
New York Dolls,
Brothers Johnson,
ABBA,
Interpol,
The Skatalites,
Anakelly,
Sister Nancy,
Letta Mbulu,
Eve St. Jones,
Aural Exciters,
Ronnie Foster,
Roger Hodgson,
Graham Central Station,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q65,
the Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
Urselle,
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sugar Minott,
Japan,
Rotary Connection,
MC5,
Fela Kuti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dark Day,
the Soft Cell,
Organ,
Con Funk Shun,
Amon Düül II,
Albert Ayler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.