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 Equatorial Guinea and from Johannesburg.
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 Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Main Source to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Tremeloes,
The Sonics,
Nik Kershaw,
Con Funk Shun,
The Real Kids,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Enemy,
kango's stein massive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Surgeon,
The Divine Comedy,
Fat Boys,
Robert Görl,
Q and Not U,
Donald Byrd,
Brass Construction,
Essential Logic,
Scratch Acid,
Subhumans,
CMW,
Roger Hodgson,
The Misunderstood,
The Skatalites,
Sarah Menescal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Absolute Body Control,
Parry Music,
Josef K,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mo-Dettes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Womack,
Severed Heads,
The New Christs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Soft Cell,
Eve St. Jones,
Agitation Free,
Marshall Jefferson,
Icehouse,
Roxette,
Grauzone,
Dual Sessions,
Connie Case,
Radiohead,
Rekid,
Von Mondo,
Bauhaus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skaos,
The United States of America,
Groovy Waters,
Crooked Eye,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aswad,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.