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 Tunisia and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Blues Magoos to the rap 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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jesper Dahlback,
Darondo,
The Pop Group,
The Toasters,
Deakin,
The Searchers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Q65,
D'Angelo,
Eric Copeland,
Crooked Eye,
Lakeside,
Kaleidoscope,
The Remains,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Animal Collective,
Boredoms,
Eurythmics,
Ten City,
OOIOO,
Von Mondo,
Model 500,
Talk Talk,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Colin Newman,
Grey Daturas,
Rapeman,
Gang of Four,
the Germs,
Harry Pussy,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Green,
Scan 7,
DNA,
Tres Demented,
Public Image Ltd.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Young Rascals,
T.S.O.L.,
Maurizio,
The Litter,
Audionom,
Lungfish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pole,
MDC,
The Modern Lovers,
Wally Richardson,
Laurel Aitken,
LL Cool J,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Foxx,
Magazine,
The Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
Smog,
Pere Ubu,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.