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 Czech Republic and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Goldenarms,
Agitation Free,
Gang of Four,
New York Dolls,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Hill,
Audionom,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
One Last Wish,
Minnie Riperton,
AZ,
Pierre Henry,
The Leaves,
The Fortunes,
Scrapy,
The Angels of Light,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pole,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers,
Freddie Wadling,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
New Age Steppers,
Hoover,
Fear,
Jimmy McGriff,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cluster,
Liliput,
Kayak,
The Durutti Column,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Görl,
These Immortal Souls,
Susan Cadogan,
The Neon Judgement,
Dave Gahan,
Das Ding,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Don Cherry,
The Busters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deakin,
Blake Baxter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Boz Scaggs,
Cymande,
Donald Byrd,
Youth Brigade,
Kerri Chandler,
Motorama,
Duran Duran,
Nirvana,
Unwound,
Matthew Halsall,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.