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 South Sudan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Harry Pussy to the rock 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Ken Boothe,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monochrome Set,
Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Icehouse,
June Days,
Qualms,
Moss Icon,
Mars,
Maurizio,
Aswad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Searchers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rekid,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Subhumans,
Ice-T,
Section 25,
D'Angelo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Green,
The Index,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Talk Talk,
Wally Richardson,
Jacob Miller,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Young Rascals,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thee Headcoats,
cv313,
Gerry Rafferty,
Con Funk Shun,
The Martian,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Pretty Things,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Birthday Party,
John Holt,
Shuggie Otis,
Pantytec,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sugar Minott,
Cabaret Voltaire,
a-ha,
the Sonics,
Ituana,
Nik Kershaw,
Unrelated Segments,
Agitation Free,
Severed Heads,
10cc,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Symarip,
Eli Mardock,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.