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 Burkina and from Lille.
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 Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ken Boothe to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Techniques,
Aloha Tigers,
The Moody Blues,
The Blackbyrds,
Easy Going,
Saccharine Trust,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Martian,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Intrusion,
Average White Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cecil Taylor,
Stetsasonic,
Little Man,
LL Cool J,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Bill Wells,
Don Cherry,
Carl Craig,
Prince Buster,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Au Pairs,
Sugar Minott,
Stiv Bators,
Yusef Lateef,
China Crisis,
Ponytail,
Bootsy Collins,
The Monks,
Theoretical Girls,
Colin Newman,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dave Clark Five,
Altered Images,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Grass Roots,
Blake Baxter,
Gang of Four,
Technova,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Offenders,
The Gladiators,
Gichy Dan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lalann,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soft Machine,
MDC,
Desert Stars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.