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 Azerbaijan and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin 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 Half Japanese to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Jandek,
Flash Fearless,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jacob Miller,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bootsy Collins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Cowsills,
R.M.O.,
The Smiths,
Slave,
Agent Orange,
Nas,
Scratch Acid,
Yaz,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Five Americans,
Albert Ayler,
Quantec,
The Residents,
Ice-T,
Magazine,
The Grass Roots,
Shuggie Otis,
Charles Mingus,
Tres Demented,
Prince Buster,
Lalann,
Qualms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Last Poets,
Minny Pops,
Camberwell Now,
Aswad,
Ultravox,
Darondo,
Robert Hood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Metal Thangz,
Kurtis Blow,
Trumans Water,
Accadde A,
Stereo Dub,
Man Parrish,
Malaria!,
DNA,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Judy Mowatt,
K-Klass,
Skriet,
Cheater Slicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rosa Yemen,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Soft Cell,
Peter and Kerry,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.