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 Chile and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer 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 Sonny Sharrock to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
The Skatalites,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Seeds,
Q65,
Maleditus Sound,
Flash Fearless,
Maurizio,
Blossom Toes,
Sixth Finger,
David McCallum,
In Retrospect,
Ronan,
Oblivians,
Hashim,
Soft Machine,
Matthew Bourne,
Television Personalities,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Selecter,
Zero Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Trojans,
Gabor Szabo,
A Certain Ratio,
The Young Rascals,
Sex Pistols,
The Fugs,
Magma,
The Zeros,
Talk Talk,
Liliput,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mad Mike,
Blancmange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Judy Mowatt,
Jerry's Kids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sonics,
Eric Dolphy,
Colin Newman,
Faust,
DJ Style,
One Last Wish,
ABBA,
E-Dancer,
Tomorrow,
Robert Hood,
Freddie Wadling,
Morten Harket,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pantytec,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Durutti Column,
Ponytail,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.