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 Costa Rica and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scott Walker to the grime 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultravox,
Laurel Aitken,
The Tremeloes,
Janne Schatter,
In Retrospect,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Siglo XX,
Fear,
Nils Olav,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Smooth,
The J.B.'s,
Todd Terry,
Cal Tjader,
Moss Icon,
Panda Bear,
PIL,
Parry Music,
Fela Kuti,
The Gladiators,
Angry Samoans,
Pussy Galore,
Neu!,
Connie Case,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
The Standells,
Whodini,
Toni Rubio,
ABC,
The Saints,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quadrant,
Simply Red,
The Searchers,
These Immortal Souls,
Liliput,
X-Ray Spex,
Average White Band,
David Axelrod,
Lyres,
June of 44,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Moon,
Marine Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
Sam Rivers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swell Maps,
Brothers Johnson,
Crime,
Inner City,
Boredoms,
Television,
Black Flag,
Surgeon,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.