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 Montenegro and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Underground Resistance to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
The Gladiators,
Das Ding,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eve St. Jones,
Erykah Badu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Alison Limerick,
Soft Machine,
Terry Callier,
Jacob Miller,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brass Construction,
Sun Ra,
Robert Görl,
Thee Headcoats,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
ABC,
Procol Harum,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aural Exciters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Shoche,
Los Fastidios,
Tom Boy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cluster,
Bang On A Can,
H. Thieme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blossom Toes,
DNA,
Lou Christie,
Sparks,
Camouflage,
Junior Murvin,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Red Krayola,
Buzzcocks,
New Order,
Black Moon,
Aloha Tigers,
Oneida,
Gang of Four,
Wasted Youth,
The Saints,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Grey Daturas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thompson Twins,
The Pretty Things,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Image Ltd.,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
This Heat,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.