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 Rwanda and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Organ to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
Glenn Branca,
Rakim,
H. Thieme,
The Beau Brummels,
Anakelly,
The Victims,
The Moody Blues,
Neil Young,
a-ha,
Negative Approach,
China Crisis,
U.S. Maple,
Schoolly D,
Black Moon,
Marvin Gaye,
Siglo XX,
Scrapy,
Pagans,
Unwound,
Hashim,
Robert Görl,
Au Pairs,
Icehouse,
Boz Scaggs,
Deadbeat,
Glambeats Corp.,
F. McDonald,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Audionom,
Joe Finger,
Flash Fearless,
Albert Ayler,
Cybotron,
The Stooges,
The Litter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blancmange,
Barrington Levy,
Boredoms,
Roger Hodgson,
The Modern Lovers,
Royal Trux,
The Residents,
Leonard Cohen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
JFA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
Cecil Taylor,
Tom Boy,
The Fuzztones,
The Blackbyrds,
John Coltrane,
Q and Not U,
The Alarm Clocks,
Steve Hackett,
Average White Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
June of 44,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.