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 Philippines and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Hasil Adkins to the funk 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Funkadelic,
Gong,
The Grass Roots,
Fear,
Wolf Eyes,
Nirvana,
the Fania All-Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Interpol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun City Girls,
The Gories,
David Axelrod,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pole,
Bauhaus,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Sherman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hoover,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Can,
Easy Going,
Pere Ubu,
Jacques Brel,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blake Baxter,
Henry Cow,
Jeff Lynne,
Angry Samoans,
Hot Snakes,
The American Breed,
Con Funk Shun,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Germs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sound Behaviour,
X-Ray Spex,
Maleditus Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Coltrane,
CMW,
The Red Krayola,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Slave,
The Kinks,
Unrelated Segments,
Drexciya,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Saints,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quantec,
Todd Rundgren,
U.S. Maple,
Rufus Thomas,
Gichy Dan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Divine Comedy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pantytec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.