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 Iran and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 This Heat to the dance 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Fall,
X-101,
The Saints,
Bluetip,
the Fania All-Stars,
Newcleus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slick Rick,
Archie Shepp,
Inner City,
Underground Resistance,
Aural Exciters,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Cale,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tears for Fears,
La Düsseldorf,
cv313,
Lower 48,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Normal,
Spandau Ballet,
Josef K,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Dual Sessions,
JFA,
Stiv Bators,
Rotary Connection,
Sound Behaviour,
Deakin,
Dawn Penn,
Masters at Work,
Brothers Johnson,
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
Wings,
Cybotron,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cluster,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Wyatt,
Marmalade,
Chris & Cosey,
Amazonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed,
The Modern Lovers,
Adolescents,
Urselle,
Skarface,
The Knickerbockers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cure,
The Dead C,
The Toasters,
Silicon Teens,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.