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 Tunisia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bill Wells to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
B.T. Express,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra,
Erasure,
Terry Callier,
Gong,
Kayak,
John Holt,
Kaleidoscope,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jacob Miller,
Livin' Joy,
OOIOO,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lower 48,
The Velvet Underground,
The American Breed,
The Slits,
Jacques Brel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Altered Images,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sugar Minott,
Eve St. Jones,
48th St. Collective,
Grauzone,
Rod Modell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nico,
The Fall,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New Order,
Japan,
Ossler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aural Exciters,
This Heat,
Black Pus,
Con Funk Shun,
Wasted Youth,
Motorama,
the Soft Cell,
Minnie Riperton,
Country Teasers,
Neu!,
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
Bush Tetras,
Marc Almond,
La Düsseldorf,
Lyres,
Slick Rick,
The Moleskins,
The Cramps,
The Selecter,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.