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 Nigeria and from London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 Lakeside to the punk 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
John Lydon,
Sister Nancy,
Cheater Slicks,
Sugar Minott,
Josef K,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Infiniti,
The Black Dice,
Goldenarms,
Lou Christie,
Jimmy McGriff,
Los Fastidios,
Thee Headcoats,
Zapp,
Swans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Toni Rubio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Duran Duran,
John Coltrane,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Clear Light,
Janne Schatter,
Byron Stingily,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra,
ABC,
Quando Quango,
Laurel Aitken,
Bauhaus,
Arab on Radar,
Das Ding,
Au Pairs,
Cymande,
Roxy Music,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Prince Buster,
Technova,
Max Romeo,
Shoche,
Black Bananas,
The Tremeloes,
Bob Dylan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Youth Brigade,
Livin' Joy,
The Victims,
Sight & Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Young Marble Giants,
Barrington Levy,
Unrelated Segments,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Pop Group,
Rapeman,
The Human League,
The Motions,
Liliput,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Lynne,
K-Klass,
Piero Umiliani,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.