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 Belize and from Mumbai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Infiniti to the funk 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scion,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Symarip,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
New York Dolls,
Robert Görl,
The Martian,
The Residents,
The Misunderstood,
Severed Heads,
Nas,
Procol Harum,
Davy DMX,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brothers Johnson,
Masters at Work,
DJ Sneak,
Motorama,
Marvin Gaye,
Royal Trux,
Colin Newman,
Roger Hodgson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Clear Light,
Jacob Miller,
ABBA,
The Beau Brummels,
Tim Buckley,
The United States of America,
Laurel Aitken,
Toni Rubio,
Pantaleimon,
Reuben Wilson,
Brand Nubian,
The Cramps,
The Fall,
Bad Manners,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
China Crisis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Buzzcocks,
Ponytail,
Alphaville,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Infiniti,
The Standells,
Liliput,
Jeru the Damaja,
Outsiders,
The Monks,
Quadrant,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.