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 United States and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 Funkadelic to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Smoke,
Soul II Soul,
New Age Steppers,
Mark Hollis,
The Wake,
Alphaville,
Urselle,
Leonard Cohen,
Mo-Dettes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mr. Review,
The New Christs,
Eric Copeland,
Symarip,
Qualms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Malaria!,
Amon Düül II,
Alison Limerick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
FM Einheit,
Roxette,
Ultimate Spinach,
Letta Mbulu,
Aaron Thompson,
Scrapy,
Don Cherry,
Black Flag,
Bobby Byrd,
Livin' Joy,
Camouflage,
Throbbing Gristle,
Animal Collective,
The Fortunes,
Byron Stingily,
Sonic Youth,
Fatback Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Electric Prunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Piero Umiliani,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Traffic Nightmare,
Skriet,
Tears for Fears,
Jeff Lynne,
Pylon,
The Barracudas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Zeros,
Barbara Tucker,
Kerrie Biddell,
Interpol,
Popol Vuh,
The Skatalites,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.