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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the snare 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 Warsaw to the jazz 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Sound,
Althea and Donna,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fuzztones,
Colin Newman,
Alton Ellis,
Procol Harum,
Faraquet,
Joe Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tropical Tobacco,
Danielle Patucci,
The Last Poets,
Sun City Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
Scratch Acid,
The Gap Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
kango's stein massive,
Whodini,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Mills,
Alphaville,
Nils Olav,
Pole,
The Vogues,
Joensuu 1685,
Y Pants,
The Neon Judgement,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tubeway Army,
Smog,
The Offenders,
Roxette,
Moebius,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Groovy Waters,
Quando Quango,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Reed,
Hardrive,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Star Department,
Q and Not U,
Con Funk Shun,
Thompson Twins,
the Association,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hoover,
Pere Ubu,
China Crisis,
Marmalade,
Circle Jerks,
Los Fastidios,
The Walker Brothers,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.