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 Colombia and from New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Silicon Teens to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
the Slits,
Ultravox,
Ice-T,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cowsills,
The Slackers,
Camberwell Now,
Sex Pistols,
Bronski Beat,
The Music Machine,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Teasers,
FM Einheit,
Moss Icon,
The Knickerbockers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Henry Cow,
Alton Ellis,
Massinfluence,
Oblivians,
Gong,
Tommy Roe,
Neil Young,
The Trojans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Q and Not U,
The Fugs,
DNA,
the Human League,
Byron Stingily,
Bang On A Can,
B.T. Express,
Maurizio,
Prince Buster,
Minnie Riperton,
Schoolly D,
Fluxion,
Das Ding,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Bar-Kays,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fad Gadget,
Moby Grape,
Tim Buckley,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Sneak,
Todd Terry,
Monks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Altered Images,
Charles Mingus,
Quando Quango,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ituana,
Tomorrow,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.