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 Mozambique and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Lower 48 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
The Fire Engines,
The J.B.'s,
Sugar Minott,
Kaleidoscope,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T.S.O.L.,
Tears for Fears,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
One Last Wish,
Khruangbin,
The Searchers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Junior Murvin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Circle Jerks,
Leonard Cohen,
Motorama,
Johnny Osbourne,
La Düsseldorf,
Deepchord,
Popol Vuh,
Monolake,
Scion,
Drexciya,
Dave Gahan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thee Headcoats,
Delta 5,
John Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
E-Dancer,
The Smoke,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Absolute Body Control,
New York Dolls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rekid,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Boz Scaggs,
Interpol,
Urselle,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Graham Central Station,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispy Ambulance,
Niagra,
Zapp,
Barclay James Harvest,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Red Krayola,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.