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 South Sudan and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 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 Mary Jane Girls to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Certain Ratio,
8 Eyed Spy,
Supertramp,
Kurtis Blow,
Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Donald Byrd,
The Mummies,
Boz Scaggs,
John Holt,
Eric Copeland,
Delta 5,
Deepchord,
Todd Terry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brass Construction,
AZ,
UT,
ABC,
Stereo Dub,
the Germs,
Lindisfarne,
Skriet,
Nik Kershaw,
Harry Pussy,
The Dead C,
Circle Jerks,
X-102,
Peter & Gordon,
Radiohead,
EPMD,
Prince Buster,
John Cale,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed,
Lucky Dragons,
Iggy Pop,
Bad Manners,
The Gun Club,
Flash Fearless,
Gang Green,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camberwell Now,
The Misunderstood,
Oneida,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rekid,
Bob Dylan,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantaleimon,
Leonard Cohen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cure,
The Fire Engines,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.