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 Lesotho and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Coltrane to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Organ,
Sun City Girls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tommy Roe,
The American Breed,
the Normal,
The Mummies,
The Associates,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Anakelly,
John Holt,
The Barracudas,
Ice-T,
Sex Pistols,
Monolake,
Underground Resistance,
Soft Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stereo Dub,
Guru Guru,
The Neon Judgement,
The Last Poets,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Monochrome Set,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fall,
Tears for Fears,
The Gladiators,
Heaven 17,
The Gun Club,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gichy Dan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mantronix,
Jeru the Damaja,
Parry Music,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare,
Cheater Slicks,
The Wake,
Dennis Brown,
Drive Like Jehu,
LL Cool J,
Fluxion,
The Dirtbombs,
Youth Brigade,
Magazine,
Matthew Halsall,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sugar Minott,
Ludus,
Harmonia,
Delta 5,
Niagra,
Neil Young,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.