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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Thompson Twins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Kerri Chandler,
Wally Richardson,
Theoretical Girls,
The Busters,
Roxy Music,
R.M.O.,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bob Dylan,
Main Source,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Metal Thangz,
Mad Mike,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Carl Craig,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flipper,
Zero Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Janne Schatter,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
June of 44,
The Saints,
Gabor Szabo,
Pere Ubu,
Delta 5,
Angry Samoans,
Oblivians,
Bobby Byrd,
Reuben Wilson,
Quantec,
Desert Stars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jeru the Damaja,
Circle Jerks,
Adolescents,
The Barracudas,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Happenings,
Marmalade,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Pretty Things,
B.T. Express,
Swans,
The Fugs,
Silicon Teens,
Jimmy McGriff,
Loose Ends,
Niagra,
Prince Buster,
DJ Sneak,
Y Pants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.