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 Somalia and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pylon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Drexciya,
Sonic Youth,
Skarface,
The Residents,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tom Boy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Steve Hackett,
Blake Baxter,
Babytalk,
MC5,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Das Ding,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ronnie Foster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Japan,
Gang of Four,
Ice-T,
Franke,
Essential Logic,
Harry Pussy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tres Demented,
Clear Light,
The Fortunes,
Bad Manners,
Joe Finger,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
Camberwell Now,
Simply Red,
Y Pants,
China Crisis,
David McCallum,
Q65,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
Crooked Eye,
Reuben Wilson,
Howard Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Godley & Creme,
Mission of Burma,
Bill Wells,
Soft Machine,
Can,
The Smoke,
Subhumans,
Zapp,
Sarah Menescal,
Brothers Johnson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sister Nancy,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.