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 Armenia and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Minutemen,
Infiniti,
Monks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mojo Men,
Max Romeo,
Severed Heads,
June of 44,
Sex Pistols,
Prince Buster,
Shoche,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marine Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fall,
Outsiders,
The Buckinghams,
Cheater Slicks,
John Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Cybotron,
Ossler,
The Leaves,
Zapp,
Ohio Players,
Moebius,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eurythmics,
Ronan,
The Barracudas,
Stetsasonic,
Public Image Ltd.,
Slick Rick,
Roger Hodgson,
Average White Band,
Bobby Sherman,
X-101,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nils Olav,
Slave,
Arab on Radar,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sight & Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Television Personalities,
The Monks,
Malaria!,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Durutti Column,
the Germs,
The Music Machine,
Black Pus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Little Man,
The Slackers,
Lyres,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.