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 Yemen and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eric Copeland to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Rekid,
Alison Limerick,
Mr. Review,
Animal Collective,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eli Mardock,
Kerri Chandler,
Radiohead,
The Gories,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rapeman,
The Doors,
Aloha Tigers,
Liliput,
Cluster,
Rod Modell,
Little Man,
The Cramps,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sonics,
Darondo,
Con Funk Shun,
Q65,
The Electric Prunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Big Daddy Kane,
Al Stewart,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vainqueur,
Sixth Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fugs,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare,
Pagans,
Mission of Burma,
Tim Buckley,
Matthew Bourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soft Cell,
Arthur Verocai,
Tropical Tobacco,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kaleidoscope,
Television,
Bob Dylan,
Aswad,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marcia Griffiths,
Brothers Johnson,
Michelle Simonal,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Byrd,
Masters at Work,
Spandau Ballet,
Sexual Harrassment,
China Crisis,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.