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 Slovenia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the güiro 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 L. Decosne to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joyce Sims,
The Angels of Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sandy B,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rapeman,
The Monks,
David Bowie,
Malaria!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bizarre Inc.,
Au Pairs,
Cheater Slicks,
Roxy Music,
Ituana,
L. Decosne,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Associates,
Sight & Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Warren Ellis,
The Motions,
Black Moon,
Amazonics,
Adolescents,
The Evens,
Sun Ra,
Charles Mingus,
The Trojans,
The Dead C,
Ultravox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Albert Ayler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scientists,
Flipper,
Minutemen,
Black Bananas,
Rod Modell,
Lindisfarne,
The Music Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
Cybotron,
Infiniti,
Main Source,
David Axelrod,
E-Dancer,
Bush Tetras,
Newcleus,
Rites of Spring,
Kenny Larkin,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.