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 Taiwan and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
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 sitar 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 Peter & Gordon to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soft Machine,
Bang On A Can,
Bauhaus,
H. Thieme,
The Count Five,
The Misunderstood,
James White and The Blacks,
Reuben Wilson,
Scrapy,
The Fortunes,
Amon Düül,
Bush Tetras,
Nils Olav,
Little Man,
Sun Ra,
D'Angelo,
Black Moon,
Warsaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alison Limerick,
Pole,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare,
The Durutti Column,
Minny Pops,
DJ Sneak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fall,
Desert Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Y Pants,
The Divine Comedy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Mission of Burma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bob Dylan,
Das Ding,
The Velvet Underground,
Juan Atkins,
Erykah Badu,
The Buckinghams,
Black Sheep,
Neu!,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terry Callier,
Rotary Connection,
Blake Baxter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Ossler,
Audionom,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Suicide,
Drive Like Jehu,
Roxy Music,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.