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 Fiji and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Banda Bassotti,
Bang On A Can,
cv313,
Easy Going,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
the Soft Cell,
Average White Band,
LL Cool J,
The Slits,
Mars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brick,
The Victims,
ABC,
The Happenings,
The Sound,
Pagans,
Amazonics,
Quantec,
Dark Day,
Tropical Tobacco,
Malaria!,
Buzzcocks,
X-Ray Spex,
Davy DMX,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Sherman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bad Manners,
Judy Mowatt,
Guru Guru,
These Immortal Souls,
Monks,
10cc,
Max Romeo,
Barbara Tucker,
New Order,
Barry Ungar,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Slackers,
a-ha,
The Standells,
Soulsonic Force,
In Retrospect,
Altered Images,
Half Japanese,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marvin Gaye,
Talk Talk,
Skarface,
Cameo,
Theoretical Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kevin Saunderson,
Smog,
Animal Collective,
Ten City,
Nils Olav,
Jacques Brel,
The Neon Judgement,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.