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 Botswana and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Selecter to the funk 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tomorrow,
Accadde A,
Faust,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roxy Music,
Flash Fearless,
The Mummies,
Crash Course in Science,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Mojo Men,
Tim Buckley,
Deepchord,
X-102,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Techniques,
Barry Ungar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
Shoche,
Joy Division,
D'Angelo,
Amazonics,
The Blues Magoos,
Pylon,
Absolute Body Control,
X-101,
Rites of Spring,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
James White and The Blacks,
The Moleskins,
Black Bananas,
Franke,
Scan 7,
Dark Day,
Boredoms,
Nick Fraelich,
Tom Boy,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Sneak,
Unrelated Segments,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Con Funk Shun,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young,
Matthew Halsall,
Mad Mike,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moss Icon,
Eden Ahbez,
Sparks,
Susan Cadogan,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.