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 Thailand and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 Terry Callier to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Ultimate Spinach,
Theoretical Girls,
Magazine,
The Doors,
Carl Craig,
Barrington Levy,
Erasure,
Alice Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
Sam Rivers,
Cameo,
Charles Mingus,
Terry Callier,
Robert Hood,
Agitation Free,
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
Bad Manners,
Eric Dolphy,
John Holt,
Eve St. Jones,
Alison Limerick,
Alton Ellis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Vogues,
The Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Q65,
Vainqueur,
Ossler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Minor Threat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brand Nubian,
China Crisis,
Byron Stingily,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Görl,
Crooked Eye,
Slave,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scientists,
Eric B and Rakim,
Letta Mbulu,
Warren Ellis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
New York Dolls,
Oneida,
Smog,
Liliput,
Outsiders,
Neil Young,
Lou Christie,
Kaleidoscope,
Au Pairs,
Susan Cadogan,
Rufus Thomas,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.