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 Saudi Arabia and from Toronto.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Star Department to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and an oboe 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 spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Minor Threat,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Buckinghams,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang of Four,
10cc,
Danielle Patucci,
Minnie Riperton,
Ohio Players,
Derrick May,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Byrd,
Lakeside,
Black Pus,
Nils Olav,
The Names,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Section 25,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers,
Stereo Dub,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter & Gordon,
Swell Maps,
Circle Jerks,
Mandrill,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kurtis Blow,
Fatback Band,
Eurythmics,
These Immortal Souls,
Rites of Spring,
Anthony Braxton,
Arcadia,
La Düsseldorf,
Kenny Larkin,
Guru Guru,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Schoolly D,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Young Rascals,
Crash Course in Science,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultra Naté,
The Saints,
Easy Going,
Stiv Bators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vladislav Delay,
Y Pants,
Prince Buster,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Flag,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Grauzone,
Arab on Radar,
The Human League,
Television Personalities,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.