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 Serbia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 808 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 Gerry Rafferty to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Roy Ayers,
Lindisfarne,
Cheater Slicks,
Mantronix,
Minutemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gichy Dan,
Joey Negro,
Nico,
Animal Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Thompson Twins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hot Snakes,
The Martian,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Terry Callier,
10cc,
Matthew Halsall,
Dead Boys,
Lyres,
Grandmaster Flash,
DJ Style,
Fatback Band,
Bad Manners,
Lalann,
Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
a-ha,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Silicon Teens,
Sarah Menescal,
Grauzone,
The Stooges,
Eve St. Jones,
The Toasters,
F. McDonald,
The Sisters of Mercy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ituana,
Section 25,
Ultravox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Maurizio,
Don Cherry,
Half Japanese,
Scott Walker,
Jeff Mills,
Bush Tetras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cameo,
Scrapy,
Whodini,
Metal Thangz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tomorrow,
Crooked Eye,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.