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 Cape Verde and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
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 theremin 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 Gil Scott Heron to the techno 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
The Misunderstood,
Ponytail,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Beau Brummels,
Marmalade,
cv313,
Liliput,
Pole,
Gabor Szabo,
Television Personalities,
Graham Central Station,
the Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
K-Klass,
The Gun Club,
Don Cherry,
The Walker Brothers,
Yellowson,
The Selecter,
Gang Green,
Todd Terry,
The Searchers,
Warren Ellis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Reagan Youth,
Marine Girls,
Cybotron,
Accadde A,
Moby Grape,
AZ,
The Black Dice,
UT,
Stetsasonic,
Tom Boy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Camouflage,
the Germs,
Banda Bassotti,
Godley & Creme,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Excepter,
Erasure,
Rapeman,
David Axelrod,
Scott Walker,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minutemen,
The Music Machine,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
The Cramps,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magazine,
Toni Rubio,
Ken Boothe,
Eli Mardock,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.