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 Korea South and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jimmy McGriff 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arab on Radar,
Spandau Ballet,
The Happenings,
The Moleskins,
Clear Light,
Index,
Warsaw,
Chris & Cosey,
Gregory Isaacs,
Arcadia,
Mars,
Suburban Knight,
Black Bananas,
Second Layer,
Organ,
Kas Product,
Royal Trux,
Robert Hood,
Brick,
Joe Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Bourne,
Minnie Riperton,
Piero Umiliani,
Harmonia,
Pylon,
Roxette,
ABC,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bluetip,
The Flesh Eaters,
Carl Craig,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fluxion,
Ituana,
Liliput,
Brand Nubian,
Howard Jones,
MDC,
The Grass Roots,
Amazonics,
Pere Ubu,
Sam Rivers,
Don Cherry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Q65,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mo-Dettes,
Masters at Work,
The Cure,
Michelle Simonal,
John Cale,
Pantytec,
Babytalk,
New Order,
Bad Manners,
Newcleus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.