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 Bangladesh 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Y Pants to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bad Manners,
The Modern Lovers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Star Department,
Eric Dolphy,
Spandau Ballet,
X-Ray Spex,
The Martian,
Lungfish,
A Certain Ratio,
The Buckinghams,
The Dirtbombs,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Moleskins,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Osbourne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Echospace,
Sight & Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Whodini,
The Raincoats,
Patti Smith,
Carl Craig,
Organ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pagans,
Masters at Work,
The Cowsills,
Alison Limerick,
Make Up,
Saccharine Trust,
Eve St. Jones,
Joyce Sims,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ludus,
Fad Gadget,
Derrick May,
Porter Ricks,
Derrick Morgan,
The Real Kids,
Skarface,
Talk Talk,
Aural Exciters,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
The Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
Zapp,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Golliwogs,
Banda Bassotti,
The Motions,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
E-Dancer,
The Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.