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 Ghana and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Suburban Knight to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs 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?
Electric Prunes,
Radiohead,
Flash Fearless,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Green,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Kinks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultimate Spinach,
Simply Red,
Alphaville,
Smog,
Black Pus,
Deakin,
Whodini,
Roxy Music,
Toni Rubio,
X-Ray Spex,
The Sonics,
Grauzone,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Misunderstood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nils Olav,
Joe Smooth,
Ultravox,
The Smiths,
Ituana,
Grey Daturas,
Lower 48,
Second Layer,
Tom Boy,
Cal Tjader,
One Last Wish,
Colin Newman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Qualms,
Warren Ellis,
Ludus,
Saccharine Trust,
Cybotron,
Loose Ends,
The Last Poets,
Bob Dylan,
Oblivians,
Joensuu 1685,
48th St. Collective,
Boredoms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare,
Symarip,
The Residents,
Howard Jones,
Bush Tetras,
Sugar Minott,
The Cowsills,
Rites of Spring,
Nico,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.