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 Bahamas and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Second Layer to the rock 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lakeside,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Josef K,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Searchers,
The Trojans,
Nico,
KRS-One,
Niagra,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dennis Brown,
Siglo XX,
Yazoo,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Germs,
Deepchord,
June Days,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Moleskins,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
Wasted Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Moon,
Brothers Johnson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deakin,
The Real Kids,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Anakelly,
Khruangbin,
James White and The Blacks,
K-Klass,
Groovy Waters,
Aloha Tigers,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers,
Pylon,
Ronan,
Kaleidoscope,
Surgeon,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Style,
The Detroit Cobras,
Radiohead,
Supertramp,
Popol Vuh,
Altered Images,
Sällskapet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.