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 Korea South 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
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 sitar 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Stooges,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barry Ungar,
Deepchord,
Young Marble Giants,
Skaos,
The Beau Brummels,
The Music Machine,
Erykah Badu,
Subhumans,
Television,
The Techniques,
John Lydon,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Busters,
The Fall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nick Fraelich,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Rundgren,
EPMD,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Copeland,
Sister Nancy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Judy Mowatt,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Moby Grape,
Simply Red,
Intrusion,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hardrive,
Basic Channel,
Freddie Wadling,
Eddi Front,
The Misunderstood,
Adolescents,
Andrew Hill,
Aural Exciters,
Crooked Eye,
Sugar Minott,
Brothers Johnson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flash Fearless,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minutemen,
Charles Mingus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Surgeon,
B.T. Express,
Q and Not U,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dave Gahan,
Ronan,
Spandau Ballet,
Sandy B,
Duran Duran,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ice-T,
Pulsallama,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.