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 Mozambique and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Black Flag to the rap 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jacques Brel,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kerrie Biddell,
Darondo,
Black Moon,
Suburban Knight,
Sparks,
Blancmange,
Funkadelic,
Inner City,
Fear,
Lucky Dragons,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pylon,
Liliput,
John Coltrane,
Average White Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Evens,
Radiohead,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tres Demented,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
EPMD,
Quando Quango,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Masters at Work,
Skaos,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alphaville,
Little Man,
Icehouse,
Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
Tears for Fears,
Half Japanese,
Faust,
Smog,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Erasure,
Vladislav Delay,
the Soft Cell,
Derrick May,
The United States of America,
Blake Baxter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Groovy Waters,
Unrelated Segments,
Godley & Creme,
Joe Smooth,
Pharoah Sanders,
PIL,
Tomorrow,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.