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 Niger and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
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 rhodes 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 The Electric Prunes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Litter,
Althea and Donna,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
L. Decosne,
Bronski Beat,
Glenn Branca,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
MC5,
The Index,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Halsall,
Circle Jerks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Red Krayola,
Ohio Players,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June Days,
The Kinks,
Joyce Sims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ornette Coleman,
Marmalade,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
Hoover,
Fatback Band,
Surgeon,
Sun Ra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry's Kids,
the Germs,
Organ,
Isaac Hayes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lightning Bolt,
Marcia Griffiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masters at Work,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
LL Cool J,
Henry Cow,
Max Romeo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mummies,
Roxy Music,
Mission of Burma,
Mantronix,
Rod Modell,
The Young Rascals,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.