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 Toronto.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Motorama to the grime 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doobie Brothers,
Erasure,
Brass Construction,
10cc,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultravox,
The Busters,
The Offenders,
Johnny Clarke,
Sandy B,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quando Quango,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Inner City,
E-Dancer,
Eurythmics,
Television,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cure,
Bill Near,
Chris & Cosey,
Donny Hathaway,
The Smiths,
Jerry's Kids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rekid,
Peter & Gordon,
Alton Ellis,
Sound Behaviour,
Girls At Our Best!,
Babytalk,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cecil Taylor,
Sex Pistols,
Panda Bear,
The Neon Judgement,
The Music Machine,
Sight & Sound,
The Human League,
Rod Modell,
Nik Kershaw,
Skaos,
Q65,
Mandrill,
EPMD,
Little Man,
Harry Pussy,
Joyce Sims,
Sonic Youth,
The Count Five,
Pere Ubu,
Ronan,
The Birthday Party,
James White and The Blacks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wire,
Pantaleimon,
Darondo,
Davy DMX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mo-Dettes,
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.