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 Iceland 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Blake Baxter 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio 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?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
China Crisis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun Ra,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Don Cherry,
The Slits,
Charles Mingus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Warsaw,
Eric Copeland,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
CMW,
Crooked Eye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
The Move,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barrington Levy,
Tom Boy,
Vainqueur,
Sam Rivers,
Drexciya,
The Gladiators,
The J.B.'s,
Carl Craig,
Index,
Youth Brigade,
Michelle Simonal,
the Sonics,
Quadrant,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nirvana,
Television,
Y Pants,
Alton Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
Chrome,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mr. Review,
The Victims,
Marmalade,
Cameo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gun Club,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fatback Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Grauzone,
Fugazi,
Q and Not U,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Saccharine Trust,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.