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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cal Tjader to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
KRS-One,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television,
The Victims,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Cramps,
Warren Ellis,
Monks,
The Martian,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yaz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Max Romeo,
Crash Course in Science,
Unrelated Segments,
Sixth Finger,
Sun City Girls,
Livin' Joy,
Heaven 17,
Goldenarms,
Todd Terry,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Average White Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rekid,
a-ha,
Niagra,
Easy Going,
Rapeman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arcadia,
Mars,
The Gories,
Gang Green,
The Tremeloes,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Womack,
Ludus,
Trumans Water,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Image Ltd.,
Audionom,
Deadbeat,
Eli Mardock,
Inner City,
The Doors,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Move,
Icehouse,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
The American Breed,
Charles Mingus,
Bush Tetras,
Black Bananas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wings,
Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
The Offenders,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.