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 China and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Judy Mowatt to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Panda Bear,
Marine Girls,
Model 500,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Invisible,
Fear,
Matthew Bourne,
John Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
Warren Ellis,
LL Cool J,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Hill,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Modern Lovers,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fugs,
Wolf Eyes,
Easy Going,
Gong,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fuzztones,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hot Snakes,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Iggy Pop,
The Associates,
Motorama,
The Evens,
Todd Terry,
Surgeon,
Boredoms,
Bluetip,
Public Image Ltd.,
Severed Heads,
Hashim,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
Qualms,
Cal Tjader,
Scientists,
48th St. Collective,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
R.M.O.,
Au Pairs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
The Beau Brummels,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Residents,
Lucky Dragons,
Absolute Body Control,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.