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 Peru 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Michael McDonald 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Kinks,
Half Japanese,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Duran Duran,
The Associates,
Bad Manners,
The Moleskins,
Tom Boy,
The Mummies,
Drexciya,
Althea and Donna,
X-101,
The Monks,
Deepchord,
Bush Tetras,
Dual Sessions,
Livin' Joy,
cv313,
Pole,
Harmonia,
Eddi Front,
Banda Bassotti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Talk Talk,
The Remains,
Japan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Slackers,
Erasure,
Jesper Dahlback,
E-Dancer,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cluster,
Piero Umiliani,
One Last Wish,
Isaac Hayes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bob Dylan,
Carl Craig,
Todd Terry,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Arcadia,
Grey Daturas,
Lucky Dragons,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Toasters,
Amon Düül II,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moby Grape,
Pylon,
Michelle Simonal,
Slave,
Jeff Lynne,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.