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 Andorra 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Scientists,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jerry's Kids,
Panda Bear,
Dawn Penn,
UT,
Pierre Henry,
Delta 5,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
Ohio Players,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
Dead Boys,
Fugazi,
The Electric Prunes,
Scratch Acid,
Kool Moe Dee,
The J.B.'s,
The Fuzztones,
Jimmy McGriff,
Popol Vuh,
Davy DMX,
Saccharine Trust,
Newcleus,
Bauhaus,
Metal Thangz,
Yusef Lateef,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Halsall,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sonics,
Visage,
Alison Limerick,
Letta Mbulu,
Mr. Review,
The Young Rascals,
Underground Resistance,
Q65,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Nirvana,
Man Parrish,
Liliput,
The Offenders,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eurythmics,
Japan,
Lyres,
Gang Gang Dance,
Desert Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Monks,
The Selecter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stereo Dub,
Flash Fearless,
Susan Cadogan,
John Foxx,
Deepchord,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.