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 Lithuania and from Glasgow.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 F. McDonald to the punk 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Al Stewart,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oneida,
The Pretty Things,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cameo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wolf Eyes,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Moleskins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aswad,
Crash Course in Science,
kango's stein massive,
Moss Icon,
Simply Red,
Excepter,
Young Marble Giants,
Siglo XX,
The Birthday Party,
Accadde A,
Mark Hollis,
Peter and Kerry,
Radiohead,
Bluetip,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mars,
CMW,
Television Personalities,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pierre Henry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Hood,
Man Parrish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Clarke,
Sixth Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aural Exciters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacob Miller,
Gabor Szabo,
Guru Guru,
Quando Quango,
Silicon Teens,
John Lydon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
June of 44,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Half Japanese,
James White and The Blacks,
Loose Ends,
Unrelated Segments,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.