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 Libya and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 the Slits to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Warren Ellis,
The Searchers,
Sight & Sound,
Boredoms,
R.M.O.,
Mr. Review,
Lower 48,
Kurtis Blow,
UT,
Scratch Acid,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Desert Stars,
The Offenders,
The Angels of Light,
The Music Machine,
Funkadelic,
Motorama,
Barbara Tucker,
Oblivians,
Shuggie Otis,
Crime,
Arthur Verocai,
Ludus,
Byron Stingily,
Gichy Dan,
Lindisfarne,
Sun Ra,
Excepter,
Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Angry Samoans,
Ultravox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
KRS-One,
Vainqueur,
Duran Duran,
The Standells,
Josef K,
Pagans,
DNA,
Young Marble Giants,
Ornette Coleman,
Eurythmics,
Hardrive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
Livin' Joy,
The J.B.'s,
Grauzone,
Siglo XX,
Section 25,
David Bowie,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultra Naté,
Deepchord,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.