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 Egypt and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Donald Fagen 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 Radiohead to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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 Golliwogs,
Monks,
Skarface,
Jeff Mills,
Alison Limerick,
The Blackbyrds,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mo-Dettes,
Bronski Beat,
Porter Ricks,
Babytalk,
Brick,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sandy B,
Prince Buster,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Franke,
The Angels of Light,
The Real Kids,
Aaron Thompson,
Section 25,
Moby Grape,
Soft Machine,
Donny Hathaway,
Barbara Tucker,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed,
Crime,
Gong,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Walker Brothers,
Faraquet,
Quantec,
Icehouse,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Camouflage,
Bluetip,
Aloha Tigers,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
The J.B.'s,
Brothers Johnson,
Unwound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
U.S. Maple,
Circle Jerks,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun City Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marcia Griffiths,
CMW,
The Happenings,
Q and Not U,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Music Machine,
The Human League,
Pantytec,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Television Personalities,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.