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 Singapore and from Mexico City.
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 London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the disco 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
H. Thieme,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marc Almond,
Ultra Naté,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
Archie Shepp,
UT,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Pretty Things,
Shuggie Otis,
Jawbox,
The Fortunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glambeats Corp.,
T. Rex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Star Department,
the Human League,
The Toasters,
Rosa Yemen,
X-102,
John Lydon,
Lalann,
Inner City,
Robert Hood,
Infiniti,
Mantronix,
New Order,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rod Modell,
The Trojans,
The Beau Brummels,
Joy Division,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare,
Los Fastidios,
La Düsseldorf,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hoover,
Crash Course in Science,
Wings,
Buzzcocks,
Dennis Brown,
The Modern Lovers,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dead C,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gabor Szabo,
OOIOO,
X-101,
Vladislav Delay,
Y Pants,
Swell Maps,
Drive Like Jehu,
Icehouse,
Nik Kershaw,
Jandek,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.