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 Costa Rica and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Whodini,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Erykah Badu,
The Vogues,
The Five Americans,
Archie Shepp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sixth Finger,
Connie Case,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marine Girls,
Pulsallama,
Radiohead,
Supertramp,
Black Pus,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Görl,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grauzone,
Maurizio,
Alison Limerick,
Fat Boys,
Agitation Free,
A Certain Ratio,
Talk Talk,
Lindisfarne,
Scion,
The Grass Roots,
Severed Heads,
Eurythmics,
Susan Cadogan,
Lower 48,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
The Cowsills,
DNA,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
8 Eyed Spy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eden Ahbez,
Fugazi,
Sandy B,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soulsonic Force,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Howard Jones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hoover,
Porter Ricks,
Dave Gahan,
Darondo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Index,
The Golliwogs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.