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 Bangladesh and from Manchester.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Visage to the techno 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Moon,
Stereo Dub,
Scan 7,
Matthew Bourne,
Y Pants,
Interpol,
Black Sheep,
Zero Boys,
The Last Poets,
Guru Guru,
Donald Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
Goldenarms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Danielle Patucci,
the Swans,
Masters at Work,
Susan Cadogan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fear,
Eli Mardock,
Pantytec,
Adolescents,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Byrd,
Tommy Roe,
The Vogues,
The Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Joensuu 1685,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Wells,
The Alarm Clocks,
Isaac Hayes,
Lou Christie,
Bronski Beat,
Can,
Magazine,
Soft Machine,
Mad Mike,
John Holt,
Hardrive,
The Buckinghams,
The Residents,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cowsills,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eddi Front,
X-102,
Sparks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.