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 Liechtenstein and from Jakarta.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 AZ to the grime 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Youth Brigade,
Marmalade,
Ronnie Foster,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Patti Smith,
Oneida,
Howard Jones,
Kurtis Blow,
Terrestrial Tones,
David Bowie,
Blossom Toes,
The Seeds,
Q and Not U,
Neil Young,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Move,
Al Stewart,
Average White Band,
Alton Ellis,
The Trojans,
Mad Mike,
Supertramp,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
Ituana,
Jerry's Kids,
The Grass Roots,
Lindisfarne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mojo Men,
Alice Coltrane,
The Saints,
Aural Exciters,
Fela Kuti,
In Retrospect,
Sällskapet,
Nico,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joyce Sims,
Clear Light,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sound,
Radio Birdman,
Crooked Eye,
Rekid,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.