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 Korea South and from Bremen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 Oblivians to the techno 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
The Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
K-Klass,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Buzzcocks,
The Seeds,
The Red Krayola,
Cymande,
Quantec,
Carl Craig,
The Blackbyrds,
Kurtis Blow,
Ornette Coleman,
Alison Limerick,
Kenny Larkin,
Rites of Spring,
Cheater Slicks,
OOIOO,
Shoche,
The Dirtbombs,
Rakim,
Mark Hollis,
The Motions,
Bobby Byrd,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dark Day,
Scrapy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Agent Orange,
Erasure,
The Standells,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Television Personalities,
Magma,
La Düsseldorf,
Easy Going,
Peter and Kerry,
Inner City,
Ponytail,
The Cramps,
The Grass Roots,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gun Club,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Ice-T,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Suburban Knight,
Gichy Dan,
Brick,
Sister Nancy,
Donny Hathaway,
Pierre Henry,
The Music Machine,
Alphaville,
The Barracudas,
Barbara Tucker,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.