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 Solomon Islands and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Robert Hood to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
The Fugs,
DJ Sneak,
Donny Hathaway,
Hoover,
Mantronix,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Görl,
Amon Düül II,
The Tremeloes,
Reuben Wilson,
Eli Mardock,
Oblivians,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Copeland,
Negative Approach,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crime,
Gang Green,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Minnie Riperton,
Bizarre Inc.,
Second Layer,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gap Band,
Agitation Free,
Steve Hackett,
Sandy B,
Andrew Hill,
Grauzone,
Quadrant,
Technova,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Names,
Neu!,
T.S.O.L.,
Young Marble Giants,
Organ,
Ituana,
Dawn Penn,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alphaville,
Magma,
Black Pus,
Hardrive,
Marmalade,
Ice-T,
Sight & Sound,
Janne Schatter,
Soul II Soul,
The Residents,
Anthony Braxton,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Style,
Sugar Minott,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.