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 Barbados and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Girls At Our Best! to the grime 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell 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 techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Chrome,
Technova,
Ultimate Spinach,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Don Cherry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Parry Music,
One Last Wish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Darondo,
Charles Mingus,
L. Decosne,
the Germs,
Eddi Front,
Hasil Adkins,
The Skatalites,
Joy Division,
Royal Trux,
Pierre Henry,
Crooked Eye,
Dawn Penn,
Sun City Girls,
Connie Case,
Drexciya,
Zapp,
Y Pants,
the Bar-Kays,
Unrelated Segments,
Yusef Lateef,
Drive Like Jehu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Make Up,
Mantronix,
The Gories,
The Blackbyrds,
Ronnie Foster,
Ituana,
The Grass Roots,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marc Almond,
Kenny Larkin,
Juan Atkins,
Nils Olav,
The Dirtbombs,
Metal Thangz,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Human League,
World's Most,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Man Parrish,
K-Klass,
Wolf Eyes,
KRS-One,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.