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 Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Joyce Sims to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Roger Hodgson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Lydon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roy Ayers,
The Cure,
Morten Harket,
Gang Gang Dance,
Slick Rick,
The Young Rascals,
The Fall,
Jeff Lynne,
Brass Construction,
the Normal,
Chris Corsano,
Kaleidoscope,
Fela Kuti,
Ossler,
Arcadia,
Arthur Verocai,
Grauzone,
Danielle Patucci,
Glambeats Corp.,
Josef K,
Soft Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
John Coltrane,
Crooked Eye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Mummies,
Animal Collective,
Zapp,
Fatback Band,
The Black Dice,
Neil Young,
R.M.O.,
Technova,
Altered Images,
Barry Ungar,
Freddie Wadling,
Vainqueur,
Camouflage,
Yazoo,
The Fire Engines,
Metal Thangz,
The Litter,
Joe Smooth,
Hot Snakes,
Piero Umiliani,
Smog,
Joensuu 1685,
Public Enemy,
Black Bananas,
Lower 48,
Parry Music,
Theoretical Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pop Group,
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.