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 Kingdom and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Patti Smith to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Copeland,
Nils Olav,
Idris Muhammad,
Nik Kershaw,
D'Angelo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yellowson,
Basic Channel,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Green,
The Martian,
Camberwell Now,
Curtis Mayfield,
Q and Not U,
The Music Machine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nirvana,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alton Ellis,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joensuu 1685,
Qualms,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Sherman,
The Monochrome Set,
Junior Murvin,
Arthur Verocai,
Grauzone,
The Dead C,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Davy DMX,
Y Pants,
Faraquet,
Man Parrish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Moon,
Brothers Johnson,
Althea and Donna,
The Associates,
Pierre Henry,
Neu!,
Magma,
Bill Wells,
Sparks,
Isaac Hayes,
Jerry's Kids,
Deakin,
The Vogues,
Sister Nancy,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Ronnie Foster,
Dennis Brown,
Crispian St. Peters,
X-102,
The Mummies,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.