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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grauzone to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Mandrill,
The Toasters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Move,
Idris Muhammad,
Funky Four + One,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Sherman,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
The Red Krayola,
The Evens,
Quando Quango,
Pantaleimon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dennis Brown,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mad Mike,
Mark Hollis,
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
Main Source,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed,
Heaven 17,
La Düsseldorf,
Stereo Dub,
Josef K,
Patti Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fat Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Charles Mingus,
The Dead C,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Style,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moody Blues,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Residents,
Ten City,
One Last Wish,
DJ Sneak,
Black Bananas,
Rotary Connection,
Eli Mardock,
The Vogues,
Wasted Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Minor Threat,
cv313,
The Mummies,
Pagans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sandy B,
Gang Starr,
Funkadelic,
Alton Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.