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 Sierra Leone and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 The Count Five to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Audionom,
Neil Young,
The Happenings,
The Monks,
John Coltrane,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brick,
Anakelly,
Adolescents,
Bronski Beat,
Fear,
The Invisible,
Man Eating Sloth,
Smog,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aural Exciters,
10cc,
OOIOO,
Unwound,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neu!,
FM Einheit,
The Blues Magoos,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nirvana,
The Trojans,
Yusef Lateef,
the Soft Cell,
Yaz,
June Days,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Essential Logic,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Boredoms,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quadrant,
Monolake,
Magazine,
The Velvet Underground,
Wire,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harry Pussy,
F. McDonald,
Public Enemy,
Lower 48,
Crash Course in Science,
One Last Wish,
Charles Mingus,
Duran Duran,
Eden Ahbez,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roxy Music,
Drive Like Jehu,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.