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 India and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Mills,
John Holt,
The Red Krayola,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deakin,
The Martian,
Hoover,
Sugar Minott,
The Human League,
Inner City,
Donald Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
F. McDonald,
The Smoke,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jandek,
The Durutti Column,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Litter,
Sound Behaviour,
Ken Boothe,
The Monks,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
Niagra,
Graham Central Station,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Surgeon,
The Slackers,
The Beau Brummels,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soft Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Gong,
Massinfluence,
X-102,
The Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Parry Music,
Trumans Water,
Henry Cow,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cramps,
Dawn Penn,
Circle Jerks,
Bauhaus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Carl Craig,
Ultra Naté,
La Düsseldorf,
The Moody Blues,
Letta Mbulu,
Suicide,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.