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 Nicaragua and from Houston.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Moss Icon to the grime 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Walker Brothers,
Judy Mowatt,
The Offenders,
Ohio Players,
Pet Shop Boys,
Man Parrish,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
Joy Division,
Scrapy,
Matthew Bourne,
The Last Poets,
Connie Case,
Oneida,
Dawn Penn,
Simply Red,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cheater Slicks,
The New Christs,
Saccharine Trust,
Mad Mike,
Stockholm Monsters,
Los Fastidios,
X-101,
Hardrive,
Scott Walker,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Main Source,
Shoche,
Deakin,
Anakelly,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
Little Man,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Steve Hackett,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DJ Style,
Jeff Mills,
Echospace,
the Normal,
Section 25,
Khruangbin,
David Bowie,
Sparks,
Heaven 17,
AZ,
Robert Wyatt,
Nas,
The Moleskins,
Roxette,
Ultra Naté,
Quadrant,
Amon Düül II,
Joey Negro,
Janne Schatter,
kango's stein massive,
Leonard Cohen,
The Slackers,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.