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 Kazakhstan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 The Neon Judgement to the jazz 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
The Mummies,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cal Tjader,
Minny Pops,
James White and The Blacks,
Ponytail,
Brothers Johnson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare,
John Holt,
Mr. Review,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rites of Spring,
Jimmy McGriff,
Severed Heads,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alison Limerick,
Surgeon,
Minnie Riperton,
Sparks,
Section 25,
The Litter,
T.S.O.L.,
The Trojans,
Harmonia,
The Raincoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
The Martian,
Ossler,
Slick Rick,
Dawn Penn,
Angry Samoans,
Ultra Naté,
Quadrant,
The Saints,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camberwell Now,
Lakeside,
Marine Girls,
Fat Boys,
The Toasters,
Mandrill,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pierre Henry,
Liliput,
Danielle Patucci,
Sound Behaviour,
The Slits,
Carl Craig,
Lee Hazlewood,
Laurel Aitken,
UT,
The New Christs,
Bad Manners,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Schoolly D,
Silicon Teens,
The Smiths,
The Pretty Things,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.