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 United States and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Charles Mingus to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Slackers,
Second Layer,
Derrick Morgan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Maurizio,
Loose Ends,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Sonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Durutti Column,
Lakeside,
X-101,
Roy Ayers,
Fela Kuti,
Howard Jones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rites of Spring,
Dead Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Kurtis Blow,
Franke,
Anthony Braxton,
Jacques Brel,
Joyce Sims,
Sam Rivers,
Graham Central Station,
OOIOO,
Sparks,
Hashim,
Rekid,
Hoover,
Sex Pistols,
Rod Modell,
Niagra,
the Swans,
The Real Kids,
Jacob Miller,
The Blues Magoos,
the Association,
The United States of America,
Slave,
Masters at Work,
Sister Nancy,
Cecil Taylor,
The Wake,
E-Dancer,
Josef K,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eric Dolphy,
ABBA,
Inner City,
The Motions,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Sherman,
Tommy Roe,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Green,
One Last Wish,
Audionom,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.