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 Sudan and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Zapp,
Royal Trux,
the Human League,
Marc Almond,
Mandrill,
B.T. Express,
Groovy Waters,
Masters at Work,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ronnie Foster,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Görl,
The Monks,
10cc,
Eric Dolphy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lyres,
James White and The Blacks,
Rites of Spring,
Sandy B,
Agent Orange,
The Moody Blues,
Althea and Donna,
kango's stein massive,
Cymande,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott Heron,
Erasure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Y Pants,
China Crisis,
The Misunderstood,
Delta 5,
Pierre Henry,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
Wire,
Roy Ayers,
Steve Hackett,
The Gun Club,
Chris & Cosey,
Gang Green,
Sixth Finger,
Aaron Thompson,
The Evens,
48th St. Collective,
Rufus Thomas,
Crash Course in Science,
Buzzcocks,
The Slackers,
Hoover,
Sun Ra,
Max Romeo,
Bang On A Can,
Von Mondo,
Gong,
The Fire Engines,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.