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 Thailand 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Khruangbin to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Aaron Thompson,
Gabor Szabo,
Deepchord,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Can,
The Moleskins,
Judy Mowatt,
The Blues Magoos,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Finger,
Rotary Connection,
Be Bop Deluxe,
CMW,
Eric Copeland,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pierre Henry,
MC5,
Clear Light,
Ituana,
Yellowson,
Aloha Tigers,
Dark Day,
London Community Gospel Choir,
48th St. Collective,
Letta Mbulu,
Fad Gadget,
Gong,
Lindisfarne,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Surgeon,
Depeche Mode,
Sun City Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Style,
Mark Hollis,
The Gun Club,
Connie Case,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pantaleimon,
The Gories,
Donald Byrd,
The Golliwogs,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultra Naté,
Charles Mingus,
Faust,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lungfish,
Ohio Players,
Malaria!,
Y Pants,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Make Up,
The Monks,
ABBA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.