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 Colombia and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Alice Coltrane to the punk 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Magma,
Cal Tjader,
Scott Walker,
Ultravox,
Trumans Water,
The Seeds,
Surgeon,
Basic Channel,
Swans,
Groovy Waters,
The Black Dice,
Youth Brigade,
Roxy Music,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marshall Jefferson,
Harry Pussy,
Reuben Wilson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Average White Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Agitation Free,
Organ,
The Gladiators,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
Slave,
Ronan,
Stereo Dub,
Aloha Tigers,
Theoretical Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stetsasonic,
The Monochrome Set,
Donny Hathaway,
Tommy Roe,
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls,
Alphaville,
Gang Starr,
The Selecter,
the Human League,
Electric Prunes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Cowsills,
Black Pus,
Frankie Knuckles,
L. Decosne,
Gerry Rafferty,
U.S. Maple,
Cluster,
The Litter,
The Fortunes,
OOIOO,
Sugar Minott,
Agent Orange,
Derrick May,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.