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 Gabon and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispian St. Peters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
The Doors,
Davy DMX,
The Gap Band,
Moss Icon,
Blossom Toes,
The Misunderstood,
Brass Construction,
The Tremeloes,
Negative Approach,
The Invisible,
The Young Rascals,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Wyatt,
Vladislav Delay,
Isaac Hayes,
The Victims,
The Happenings,
Darondo,
Slick Rick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Standells,
Scientists,
X-101,
Camouflage,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Television,
The Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Lower 48,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Lydon,
Charles Mingus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon,
Bush Tetras,
Unwound,
The J.B.'s,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
UT,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Germs,
Guru Guru,
Harry Pussy,
Sandy B,
The Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Star Department,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Monks,
Grey Daturas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Whodini,
Albert Ayler,
The Moleskins,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.