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 Belgium and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Slick Rick to the grime 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
The Toasters,
The American Breed,
Swell Maps,
Charles Mingus,
B.T. Express,
Alice Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Don Cherry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Red Krayola,
Khruangbin,
Crash Course in Science,
Dead Boys,
The Fall,
Skriet,
Livin' Joy,
Wolf Eyes,
Scan 7,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Erasure,
Judy Mowatt,
Laurel Aitken,
Pole,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joey Negro,
DNA,
Wally Richardson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grauzone,
Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
Janne Schatter,
Das Ding,
In Retrospect,
Grey Daturas,
Bang On A Can,
Bronski Beat,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jimmy McGriff,
June Days,
The Kinks,
Robert Hood,
the Human League,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Leaves,
Lindisfarne,
Quando Quango,
Moss Icon,
Alison Limerick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mojo Men,
Howard Jones,
Organ,
Robert Wyatt,
Interpol,
The Real Kids,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.