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 Djibouti and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the punk 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dead C,
Skaos,
Altered Images,
Mark Hollis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barry Ungar,
The Fortunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
Icehouse,
Colin Newman,
Yusef Lateef,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Country Teasers,
Fad Gadget,
Sixth Finger,
Wasted Youth,
Pulsallama,
Rhythm & Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Sexual Harrassment,
Magma,
Tropical Tobacco,
Desert Stars,
Mandrill,
The Martian,
Fluxion,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Brothers Johnson,
The United States of America,
Loose Ends,
Half Japanese,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
This Heat,
Tears for Fears,
Sun City Girls,
Deepchord,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dual Sessions,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Babytalk,
Animal Collective,
Supertramp,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marvin Gaye,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Symarip,
Blossom Toes,
Nirvana,
The Gories,
Stetsasonic,
Danielle Patucci,
The Monochrome Set,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.