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 South Africa and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Surgeon to the grime 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Easy Going,
Monks,
Parry Music,
Althea and Donna,
Subhumans,
Boz Scaggs,
Bad Manners,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Young Rascals,
The Wake,
The Electric Prunes,
The Durutti Column,
The Count Five,
Simply Red,
Pulsallama,
Arab on Radar,
Neil Young,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Con Funk Shun,
Albert Ayler,
Big Daddy Kane,
U.S. Maple,
10cc,
Nils Olav,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Byron Stingily,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Au Pairs,
The Slackers,
Severed Heads,
Public Image Ltd.,
a-ha,
Pylon,
Yazoo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June Days,
The Leaves,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Bananas,
Bob Dylan,
Wasted Youth,
Half Japanese,
Angry Samoans,
Gregory Isaacs,
June of 44,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Don Cherry,
Kenny Larkin,
The Star Department,
Lou Reed,
The Index,
Section 25,
Barrington Levy,
The Motions,
The Barracudas,
Maurizio,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.