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 Estonia and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Nik Kershaw to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Can,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Carl Craig,
Pet Shop Boys,
D'Angelo,
CMW,
PIL,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Derrick Morgan,
Inner City,
The Mojo Men,
Scion,
Masters at Work,
The Moleskins,
Deakin,
World's Most,
Bootsy Collins,
Agent Orange,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Barracudas,
The Fall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mummies,
Minor Threat,
Flamin' Groovies,
DJ Sneak,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Slits,
Agitation Free,
Bang On A Can,
The Dead C,
H. Thieme,
The Names,
Faraquet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Smoke,
Yellowson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Procol Harum,
Liliput,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Buzzcocks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Soft Cell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Silicon Teens,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.