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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 New York Dolls to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Tomorrow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Heaven 17,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Shuggie Otis,
Panda Bear,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sound,
Black Bananas,
Soulsonic Force,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Slave,
Moby Grape,
The Pretty Things,
The J.B.'s,
Mantronix,
The Wake,
Symarip,
Bill Near,
Rosa Yemen,
Wings,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Parry Music,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Mojo Men,
The Moleskins,
Easy Going,
David McCallum,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Steve Hackett,
Young Marble Giants,
Banda Bassotti,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang of Four,
The Fuzztones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
Pagans,
Schoolly D,
Camberwell Now,
Fluxion,
CMW,
Von Mondo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hot Snakes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Christie,
Guru Guru,
The Black Dice,
Masters at Work,
New Age Steppers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Loose Ends,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Grass Roots,
Procol Harum,
Eric B and Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.