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 San Marino and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rhythm & Sound to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bad Manners,
Ronan,
Blake Baxter,
the Soft Cell,
The Walker Brothers,
Deepchord,
Judy Mowatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yellowson,
DJ Style,
Brass Construction,
Wally Richardson,
Lakeside,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Görl,
Moby Grape,
Todd Terry,
Cybotron,
Funkadelic,
Man Parrish,
Drexciya,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Electric Prunes,
The Sound,
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
The Five Americans,
Rites of Spring,
the Human League,
Sugar Minott,
Barry Ungar,
Y Pants,
The Music Machine,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
Soul II Soul,
Soft Cell,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Green,
The Divine Comedy,
Nas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cowsills,
Accadde A,
Swell Maps,
The Techniques,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Flag,
Buzzcocks,
The Wake,
Blancmange,
Jeff Mills,
Skaos,
The Standells,
the Association,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.