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 Croatia and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lalo Schifrin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grey Daturas,
Yaz,
Iggy Pop,
Stiv Bators,
Fear,
Alton Ellis,
The Blackbyrds,
Mark Hollis,
Nils Olav,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Pretty Things,
The Real Kids,
Mission of Burma,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Section 25,
Soft Cell,
Essential Logic,
Althea and Donna,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Mojo Men,
Drive Like Jehu,
Intrusion,
Jawbox,
Clear Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Technova,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Velvet Underground,
Banda Bassotti,
The Seeds,
The Selecter,
Swans,
Aswad,
Marcia Griffiths,
Funky Four + One,
James White and The Blacks,
Michelle Simonal,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Colin Newman,
The Gap Band,
Lyres,
Rufus Thomas,
In Retrospect,
Kerrie Biddell,
Metal Thangz,
Sex Pistols,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
K-Klass,
Swell Maps,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rekid,
Alphaville,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.