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 Malawi and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 Carl Craig to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Angry Samoans,
Nico,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Con Funk Shun,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scientists,
Model 500,
Charles Mingus,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Massinfluence,
the Swans,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra,
Matthew Bourne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jeff Lynne,
The Wake,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
F. McDonald,
Dead Boys,
The Offenders,
Alton Ellis,
The Barracudas,
The Fall,
Lindisfarne,
K-Klass,
Robert Görl,
The Pretty Things,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Donny Hathaway,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cowsills,
The Index,
Amon Düül II,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
Wings,
Lalo Schifrin,
Von Mondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pulsallama,
Iggy Pop,
Zero Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Thee Headcoats,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Franke,
Smog,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.