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 Haiti and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sex Pistols to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bluetip,
Sound Behaviour,
H. Thieme,
Au Pairs,
Inner City,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Absolute Body Control,
Popol Vuh,
Skaos,
Electric Prunes,
Reagan Youth,
Smog,
Eli Mardock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Busters,
MC5,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arthur Verocai,
Archie Shepp,
Arcadia,
Rod Modell,
Scott Walker,
Sandy B,
Anakelly,
Barbara Tucker,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Monks,
Marmalade,
Dave Gahan,
Y Pants,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quadrant,
Duran Duran,
The Zeros,
Junior Murvin,
Graham Central Station,
Panda Bear,
Severed Heads,
Franke,
Grey Daturas,
Barrington Levy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cluster,
Neil Young,
The Tremeloes,
Pylon,
Kayak,
Interpol,
New Order,
Procol Harum,
The Electric Prunes,
Lungfish,
John Foxx,
Erasure,
Skriet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crash Course in Science,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.