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 South Africa and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Easy Going to the grime 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Procol Harum,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Throbbing Gristle,
Loose Ends,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Janne Schatter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fortunes,
Deepchord,
Donny Hathaway,
Dennis Brown,
Flipper,
Minnie Riperton,
Oneida,
Youth Brigade,
Oblivians,
Deakin,
Kerrie Biddell,
MC5,
Dawn Penn,
Gang Starr,
Unwound,
Bauhaus,
June Days,
Qualms,
The Red Krayola,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Patti Smith,
Circle Jerks,
The Evens,
Suburban Knight,
The American Breed,
La Düsseldorf,
Fatback Band,
Half Japanese,
Sarah Menescal,
the Association,
Kenny Larkin,
Peter and Kerry,
The Smoke,
Cal Tjader,
Au Pairs,
The Sonics,
Fluxion,
Spandau Ballet,
Max Romeo,
The Residents,
Fat Boys,
Excepter,
Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Birthday Party,
B.T. Express,
Robert Görl,
Little Man,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.