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 Cape Verde 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb 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 Pharoah Sanders to the techno 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Bauhaus,
Saccharine Trust,
Loose Ends,
Qualms,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Cramps,
Schoolly D,
The Fortunes,
The Star Department,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ludus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Whodini,
Dead Boys,
The Tremeloes,
the Slits,
Ultravox,
Cecil Taylor,
Tommy Roe,
R.M.O.,
Ponytail,
Dual Sessions,
Sandy B,
Groovy Waters,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Görl,
Pantytec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cameo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Smooth,
Liliput,
cv313,
Scrapy,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Residents,
Symarip,
Junior Murvin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Q65,
Al Stewart,
La Düsseldorf,
China Crisis,
Zero Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Pretty Things,
Banda Bassotti,
Pulsallama,
Nils Olav,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Clarke,
Slave,
Byron Stingily,
DNA,
Chrome,
JFA,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.