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 Guinea-Bissau and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 The Divine Comedy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bauhaus,
Altered Images,
Andrew Hill,
Niagra,
Fatback Band,
New York Dolls,
DJ Style,
Swans,
The Buckinghams,
Deepchord,
Television,
Avey Tare,
Eve St. Jones,
U.S. Maple,
Yaz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dead C,
Moby Grape,
Metal Thangz,
June Days,
F. McDonald,
The Stooges,
Moebius,
Johnny Clarke,
Erykah Badu,
Amon Düül II,
Aswad,
Mo-Dettes,
Nick Fraelich,
Alison Limerick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dark Day,
The Flesh Eaters,
Toni Rubio,
Sixth Finger,
Slave,
Audionom,
World's Most,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Talk Talk,
Reagan Youth,
Parry Music,
Eddi Front,
Whodini,
Kerrie Biddell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Wyatt,
Donny Hathaway,
Neu!,
Anakelly,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soft Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Quadrant,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brick,
Derrick Morgan,
The Monochrome Set,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.