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 Denmark 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Mars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
The Smiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang of Four,
Isaac Hayes,
Sister Nancy,
Mark Hollis,
The Fire Engines,
Minutemen,
the Slits,
The Five Americans,
Lungfish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sällskapet,
Outsiders,
Zapp,
Public Image Ltd.,
David Bowie,
Rekid,
These Immortal Souls,
cv313,
Lakeside,
The Last Poets,
Rosa Yemen,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
Ronnie Foster,
Brass Construction,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Association,
Symarip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Neil Young,
Model 500,
the Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Letta Mbulu,
Mars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Barracudas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tubeway Army,
New Age Steppers,
Slave,
Fad Gadget,
Underground Resistance,
Ohio Players,
Agent Orange,
The Happenings,
Black Moon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DNA,
Arthur Verocai,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moby Grape,
Section 25,
Guru Guru,
Soul II Soul,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Standells,
The Modern Lovers,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-102,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.