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 Zimbabwe and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Depeche Mode to the techno 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Masters at Work,
The Motions,
Crooked Eye,
The Gories,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minutemen,
The J.B.'s,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quantec,
Soft Cell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sex Pistols,
MDC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Funky Four + One,
Accadde A,
Howard Jones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bang On A Can,
Wasted Youth,
Fela Kuti,
Amon Düül,
The Pretty Things,
Aloha Tigers,
Ronan,
The Fire Engines,
These Immortal Souls,
Moebius,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sam Rivers,
David McCallum,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Japan,
Nick Fraelich,
Heaven 17,
Barrington Levy,
Boredoms,
Gang Green,
Country Teasers,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeff Lynne,
Blossom Toes,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash,
Inner City,
The Divine Comedy,
Hashim,
Ponytail,
The Happenings,
Sarah Menescal,
The Evens,
The Busters,
Andrew Hill,
Supertramp,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brass Construction,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.