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 Kenya and from Bologna.
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 Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Idris Muhammad to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Move,
The Mojo Men,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gichy Dan,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Nas,
Monks,
Lower 48,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
The Dead C,
Blossom Toes,
Simply Red,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lyres,
Harry Pussy,
Television,
Sonic Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Yazoo,
Iggy Pop,
New York Dolls,
Sun Ra,
Jacques Brel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultra Naté,
ABBA,
Boredoms,
Dorothy Ashby,
Organ,
The Five Americans,
Subhumans,
10cc,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rufus Thomas,
Hoover,
Fela Kuti,
The Shadows of Knight,
Basic Channel,
A Certain Ratio,
Sam Rivers,
Sarah Menescal,
The Toasters,
Mr. Review,
Marine Girls,
The Stooges,
Fear,
Q and Not U,
The Mummies,
Pierre Henry,
Wire,
The Birthday Party,
Piero Umiliani,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cramps,
Andrew Hill,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.