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 Guatemala and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 snare 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 L. Decosne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Symarip,
Juan Atkins,
Bronski Beat,
John Cale,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Alison Limerick,
Sister Nancy,
D'Angelo,
Shoche,
Pulsallama,
Gerry Rafferty,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cecil Taylor,
Khruangbin,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crooked Eye,
David Axelrod,
Second Layer,
Glenn Branca,
Young Marble Giants,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Stooges,
Rites of Spring,
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott Heron,
China Crisis,
Saccharine Trust,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Depeche Mode,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fear,
Faust,
Y Pants,
Bobby Womack,
K-Klass,
Public Enemy,
Chris & Cosey,
The Victims,
Masters at Work,
Lakeside,
Suburban Knight,
Nils Olav,
The Last Poets,
The Music Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
The Names,
B.T. Express,
Chris Corsano,
Desert Stars,
Minutemen,
Spandau Ballet,
Anakelly,
Arab on Radar,
Dead Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Adolescents,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Youth Brigade,
Joyce Sims,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.