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 Austria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Audionom,
Con Funk Shun,
Maleditus Sound,
Morten Harket,
Roger Hodgson,
Little Man,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Suburban Knight,
Barrington Levy,
Nils Olav,
Fugazi,
Lalann,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Move,
the Normal,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Oneida,
Soul Sonic Force,
Goldenarms,
Marvin Gaye,
Steve Hackett,
The Modern Lovers,
The Index,
10cc,
Dark Day,
Minor Threat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unrelated Segments,
Mars,
The Doors,
Shoche,
Lower 48,
Buzzcocks,
The Victims,
the Sonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
Warren Ellis,
Connie Case,
Whodini,
Wally Richardson,
Neil Young,
Pierre Henry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Amazonics,
Sister Nancy,
Cluster,
DNA,
Bobby Byrd,
Max Romeo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Alice Coltrane,
La Düsseldorf,
Soulsonic Force,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joyce Sims,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.