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 Gambia 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stiv Bators to the grunge 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tomorrow,
The Move,
Section 25,
Black Flag,
Anthony Braxton,
Warsaw,
Underground Resistance,
a-ha,
Simply Red,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sight & Sound,
The Five Americans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barry Ungar,
Metal Thangz,
Stiv Bators,
The Zeros,
Kayak,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Bananas,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Residents,
Henry Cow,
The Birthday Party,
The Golliwogs,
Skriet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rotary Connection,
Fugazi,
The Saints,
Soft Machine,
Aswad,
Sparks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ten City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joy Division,
Interpol,
DJ Sneak,
Yaz,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mandrill,
The Moody Blues,
Youth Brigade,
Symarip,
Kenny Larkin,
Howard Jones,
Au Pairs,
Silicon Teens,
The Standells,
Harmonia,
The Angels of Light,
Little Man,
Maleditus Sound,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.