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 Armenia and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the jazz 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
PIL,
Alison Limerick,
Swans,
Chris Corsano,
Warsaw,
Fat Boys,
Tres Demented,
Joe Smooth,
New York Dolls,
The Litter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Spoonie Gee,
the Bar-Kays,
Deakin,
Moss Icon,
Supertramp,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Charles Mingus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magma,
Moby Grape,
The Selecter,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Sherman,
The Associates,
The Monochrome Set,
Newcleus,
Jeff Lynne,
Grauzone,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moleskins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lyres,
Maleditus Sound,
Q and Not U,
Pantytec,
Fugazi,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Iggy Pop,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Five Americans,
U.S. Maple,
Boogie Down Productions,
Amazonics,
Pantaleimon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Slick Rick,
Isaac Hayes,
Lakeside,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Toni Rubio,
Ronan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
K-Klass,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.