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 Gambia and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lakeside to the punk 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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
MDC,
Junior Murvin,
Fear,
Isaac Hayes,
Qualms,
Robert Görl,
The Real Kids,
La Düsseldorf,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
E-Dancer,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heaven 17,
Alton Ellis,
The Leaves,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dawn Penn,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Young Rascals,
The Index,
Lucky Dragons,
Rod Modell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Hardrive,
The Monochrome Set,
Lalo Schifrin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Doobie Brothers,
One Last Wish,
Don Cherry,
Bauhaus,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Litter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hasil Adkins,
Barbara Tucker,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Almond,
The Red Krayola,
Bronski Beat,
The Misunderstood,
Kurtis Blow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scan 7,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tubeway Army,
Symarip,
48th St. Collective,
Royal Trux,
Make Up,
Archie Shepp,
Suicide,
Sonic Youth,
Max Romeo,
Josef K,
Duran Duran,
The New Christs,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.