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 Taiwan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the snare 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 Scan 7 to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
D'Angelo,
Kerri Chandler,
The Litter,
The Kinks,
Connie Case,
Andrew Hill,
Arab on Radar,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crime,
Leonard Cohen,
Suburban Knight,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobby Byrd,
Lyres,
Don Cherry,
Fad Gadget,
Altered Images,
Lungfish,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Clarke,
Livin' Joy,
Joey Negro,
The Monks,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultra Naté,
Neil Young,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pierre Henry,
Harry Pussy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Porter Ricks,
Bill Near,
Dark Day,
Black Bananas,
Todd Rundgren,
Isaac Hayes,
Camberwell Now,
The Walker Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Whodini,
the Germs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yazoo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eric Copeland,
the Bar-Kays,
Massinfluence,
Bluetip,
Cal Tjader,
DJ Style,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slackers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed,
Marvin Gaye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.