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 Cape Verde and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the punk 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
The Motions,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
Warsaw,
The Move,
Colin Newman,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Index,
Alison Limerick,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Golliwogs,
The Blues Magoos,
June Days,
Sun Ra,
Angry Samoans,
Oblivians,
Thompson Twins,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Q65,
Dead Boys,
Black Moon,
Malaria!,
Davy DMX,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Seeds,
Boz Scaggs,
Mark Hollis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Doors,
Minutemen,
Charles Mingus,
China Crisis,
Urselle,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tomorrow,
Pagans,
Wings,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wally Richardson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amon Düül II,
Ice-T,
Rosa Yemen,
Quantec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gerry Rafferty,
Intrusion,
Scion,
L. Decosne,
New Order,
Index,
Altered Images,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.