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 Thailand and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Lou Reed 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 Aural Exciters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alison Limerick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun City Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Names,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Sherman,
Little Man,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wire,
John Lydon,
Brass Construction,
Loose Ends,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joensuu 1685,
The Detroit Cobras,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rekid,
The Seeds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pylon,
The Pretty Things,
Lindisfarne,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy,
Alphaville,
Boz Scaggs,
Swell Maps,
Drexciya,
The Golliwogs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang Starr,
Kas Product,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hasil Adkins,
Grauzone,
Lower 48,
Jandek,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Misunderstood,
Todd Terry,
Anthony Braxton,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pussy Galore,
Warsaw,
Accadde A,
Todd Rundgren,
Saccharine Trust,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Sonics,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.