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 Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Das Ding to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Harry Pussy,
New Age Steppers,
Little Man,
The Standells,
Curtis Mayfield,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aural Exciters,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Byrd,
The Human League,
The Skatalites,
Crime,
Accadde A,
June Days,
Interpol,
The New Christs,
JFA,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Smiths,
Terry Callier,
Slick Rick,
Maurizio,
Ossler,
The Alarm Clocks,
This Heat,
Danielle Patucci,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Görl,
EPMD,
Al Stewart,
Quadrant,
Zapp,
New Order,
Procol Harum,
Todd Terry,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Radio Birdman,
Groovy Waters,
Scott Walker,
The Motions,
Kenny Larkin,
The Searchers,
The Knickerbockers,
Lucky Dragons,
The Five Americans,
Brand Nubian,
Rufus Thomas,
Duran Duran,
Los Fastidios,
Joyce Sims,
Yusef Lateef,
The Dirtbombs,
The Golliwogs,
Das Ding,
Parry Music,
The American Breed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cecil Taylor,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.