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 South Africa and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 B.T. Express to the rap 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Letta Mbulu,
Dual Sessions,
The Modern Lovers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
48th St. Collective,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ponytail,
Procol Harum,
Warsaw,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
Moebius,
Funkadelic,
The J.B.'s,
Joyce Sims,
The Raincoats,
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
Pierre Henry,
Scientists,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jacob Miller,
Darondo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Holt,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
LL Cool J,
The Moody Blues,
Spandau Ballet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arthur Verocai,
Shoche,
The American Breed,
H. Thieme,
Maurizio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
China Crisis,
The Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Golliwogs,
The Skatalites,
The Martian,
Amon Düül,
Saccharine Trust,
Crime,
Tom Boy,
New York Dolls,
David McCallum,
Aaron Thompson,
Reagan Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Panda Bear,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Donald Byrd,
Gabor Szabo,
In Retrospect,
Hardrive,
Sällskapet,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.