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 Croatia and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Flesh Eaters to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Misunderstood,
Sällskapet,
Interpol,
Funky Four + One,
Cluster,
Jerry's Kids,
Alphaville,
Terry Callier,
Lungfish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Five Americans,
The Smiths,
Ponytail,
Rakim,
Scrapy,
Buzzcocks,
Cheater Slicks,
Bronski Beat,
The Zeros,
Tropical Tobacco,
Spandau Ballet,
Colin Newman,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Crispian St. Peters,
The American Breed,
Lou Christie,
Kurtis Blow,
the Sonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Excepter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Sheep,
Lyres,
Aswad,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wally Richardson,
Saccharine Trust,
Make Up,
Tomorrow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nas,
Sparks,
Peter and Kerry,
DNA,
the Human League,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Kinks,
Dennis Brown,
Sandy B,
Swell Maps,
Deakin,
The Divine Comedy,
Ossler,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.