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 Lithuania and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Nile Rodgers 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 U.S. Maple to the techno 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
John Foxx,
Wings,
Al Stewart,
The Beau Brummels,
Brick,
Arthur Verocai,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scientists,
Niagra,
Albert Ayler,
The Barracudas,
Groovy Waters,
Man Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
AZ,
Drexciya,
Black Sheep,
Crispy Ambulance,
H. Thieme,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers,
Connie Case,
DNA,
The Offenders,
the Slits,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul Sonic Force,
MDC,
The Names,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gregory Isaacs,
Spandau Ballet,
Suicide,
Anakelly,
Kurtis Blow,
Idris Muhammad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Sound,
In Retrospect,
Livin' Joy,
Neu!,
Los Fastidios,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Doors,
Sonic Youth,
The Misunderstood,
Alison Limerick,
Can,
Whodini,
Aswad,
Make Up,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pussy Galore,
Ituana,
Marvin Gaye,
Electric Prunes,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.