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 Marshall Islands and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Names to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
DJ Style,
Stiv Bators,
Glambeats Corp.,
Electric Prunes,
The Fugs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dawn Penn,
The Knickerbockers,
Ponytail,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Scott Walker,
Roy Ayers,
The Gun Club,
Eric Copeland,
Youth Brigade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Althea and Donna,
Massinfluence,
Harry Pussy,
This Heat,
Bluetip,
Barrington Levy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Faraquet,
The Martian,
Agitation Free,
Robert Hood,
UT,
Dennis Brown,
Half Japanese,
Tim Buckley,
Urselle,
The Moleskins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Procol Harum,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Au Pairs,
X-Ray Spex,
Ludus,
Radio Birdman,
Marmalade,
Mars,
Connie Case,
Judy Mowatt,
The Music Machine,
B.T. Express,
Whodini,
Michelle Simonal,
The Litter,
Letta Mbulu,
Los Fastidios,
Lower 48,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rod Modell,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.