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 Poland 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Dave Clark Five to the rock 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
Royal Trux,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marvin Gaye,
Bang On A Can,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rosa Yemen,
Make Up,
Lou Reed,
The Dave Clark Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Camberwell Now,
Funkadelic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
Robert Görl,
Aswad,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
Joe Finger,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
Albert Ayler,
The Star Department,
The Invisible,
Mr. Review,
F. McDonald,
Inner City,
Zapp,
Basic Channel,
Ice-T,
ABBA,
Marine Girls,
Tres Demented,
Michelle Simonal,
Mo-Dettes,
Hoover,
James White and The Blacks,
Sister Nancy,
Nick Fraelich,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Urselle,
Pussy Galore,
ABC,
Nas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Remains,
Guru Guru,
Arab on Radar,
Black Bananas,
In Retrospect,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dennis Brown,
Dawn Penn,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.