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 Cambodia and from Philadelphia.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Scientists to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
This Heat,
The Monks,
DJ Sneak,
Man Parrish,
Ultravox,
Severed Heads,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Intrusion,
Sugar Minott,
Matthew Halsall,
cv313,
Terry Callier,
The Selecter,
Faust,
Joyce Sims,
Alphaville,
Index,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Bananas,
Graham Central Station,
Wolf Eyes,
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Almond,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hot Snakes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scratch Acid,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-102,
The Searchers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Porter Ricks,
Todd Rundgren,
Rapeman,
Bobby Sherman,
Drexciya,
10cc,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scientists,
The Fall,
the Bar-Kays,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun Ra,
Ronan,
Mars,
Cheater Slicks,
Lalann,
In Retrospect,
Bizarre Inc.,
Supertramp,
Pere Ubu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Suicide,
The Birthday Party,
Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dave Gahan,
Lindisfarne,
Young Marble Giants,
Warsaw,
Brand Nubian,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.