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 Colombia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Lydon to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
Blake Baxter,
Marvin Gaye,
Sight & Sound,
Make Up,
the Slits,
Procol Harum,
The Fugs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultravox,
The Barracudas,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Main Source,
Eric Copeland,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aswad,
the Association,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Buzzcocks,
Television Personalities,
Spoonie Gee,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Almond,
Lightning Bolt,
Henry Cow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nick Fraelich,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Moon,
Eddi Front,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Slits,
Motorama,
Kerri Chandler,
Q and Not U,
Country Teasers,
The Tremeloes,
The Mojo Men,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mars,
Robert Görl,
Skarface,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-101,
The Names,
Massinfluence,
Das Ding,
Half Japanese,
Cybotron,
Organ,
The Young Rascals,
Tom Boy,
The Slackers,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.