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 Seychelles and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Brothers Johnson to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Aural Exciters,
John Holt,
Wings,
Stereo Dub,
Kaleidoscope,
Derrick Morgan,
Amon Düül II,
Warsaw,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Q and Not U,
La Düsseldorf,
Graham Central Station,
Ituana,
Don Cherry,
Chris Corsano,
Lindisfarne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Music Machine,
Scratch Acid,
Inner City,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Moon,
The Human League,
The Names,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Khruangbin,
Arab on Radar,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Simply Red,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harpers Bizarre,
Babytalk,
The Walker Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Deakin,
Pierre Henry,
JFA,
The Mummies,
Roxy Music,
The Leaves,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeff Lynne,
John Foxx,
Yazoo,
EPMD,
Ultravox,
E-Dancer,
X-Ray Spex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Barracudas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Silicon Teens,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cheater Slicks,
Adolescents,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.