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 Bhutan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
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 linndrum 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 Marc Almond to the crunk 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Scott Walker,
Rotary Connection,
Maleditus Sound,
Man Parrish,
Funky Four + One,
Wings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Real Kids,
The Raincoats,
Radio Birdman,
The Invisible,
Rites of Spring,
Theoretical Girls,
Patti Smith,
Livin' Joy,
DJ Style,
The Count Five,
Wasted Youth,
the Germs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
K-Klass,
Fad Gadget,
The Modern Lovers,
Delta 5,
Masters at Work,
Angry Samoans,
Kas Product,
Yaz,
Icehouse,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Franke,
Metal Thangz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lower 48,
Joyce Sims,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minor Threat,
Inner City,
Oneida,
Stetsasonic,
Moby Grape,
Aaron Thompson,
Cameo,
Sonic Youth,
Josef K,
Spoonie Gee,
Heaven 17,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Five Americans,
Rod Modell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Moon,
The Birthday Party,
JFA,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Gun Club,
Television,
The Fall,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.