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 Chad and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Remains to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Audionom,
Goldenarms,
The Buckinghams,
Bob Dylan,
The Wake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Arcadia,
Cameo,
Motorama,
Moby Grape,
Gong,
Juan Atkins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Howard Jones,
Moss Icon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Zapp,
Echospace,
Tears for Fears,
Tommy Roe,
Nico,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kaleidoscope,
Oneida,
ABC,
Derrick Morgan,
Simply Red,
Lakeside,
Pussy Galore,
Skarface,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Grauzone,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeff Mills,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Iggy Pop,
Funkadelic,
Sound Behaviour,
The Misunderstood,
Mark Hollis,
Jacob Miller,
Nik Kershaw,
Joe Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Deakin,
Andrew Hill,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.