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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Absolute Body Control to the dance 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grauzone,
David McCallum,
Magazine,
Visage,
Roy Ayers,
Excepter,
Buzzcocks,
Icehouse,
Depeche Mode,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
Mantronix,
Jeff Mills,
Reagan Youth,
The Smiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lalann,
Oneida,
MC5,
Television Personalities,
Andrew Hill,
Erykah Badu,
Flash Fearless,
Kaleidoscope,
Maurizio,
B.T. Express,
The Moleskins,
Alison Limerick,
the Slits,
Ken Boothe,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fortunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
10cc,
Supertramp,
Stetsasonic,
Lucky Dragons,
Tubeway Army,
The Music Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
Sonic Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dirtbombs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
KRS-One,
Harpers Bizarre,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.