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 Jamaica and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro 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 the Fania All-Stars 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sugar Minott,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Scratch Acid,
Archie Shepp,
The J.B.'s,
Gerry Rafferty,
Das Ding,
Subhumans,
Cameo,
The New Christs,
La Düsseldorf,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minny Pops,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barrington Levy,
Crash Course in Science,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultravox,
Ronnie Foster,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Grass Roots,
The Evens,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Matthew Bourne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Interpol,
Barbara Tucker,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Derrick May,
The Velvet Underground,
Faust,
Carl Craig,
Dual Sessions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deadbeat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Prince Buster,
Delon & Dalcan,
Country Teasers,
Gabor Szabo,
Au Pairs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zero Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
Connie Case,
The Pop Group,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.