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 Niger and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 David Bowie 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Ken Boothe,
The Pretty Things,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thompson Twins,
June Days,
the Fania All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Model 500,
Agent Orange,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Sugar Minott,
Kas Product,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bluetip,
Spandau Ballet,
Wally Richardson,
Con Funk Shun,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Essential Logic,
Make Up,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
the Slits,
Von Mondo,
The Beau Brummels,
Harry Pussy,
John Foxx,
Oblivians,
The Slackers,
Ten City,
New Order,
Althea and Donna,
Stiv Bators,
James White and The Blacks,
Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bootsy Collins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Zeros,
Buzzcocks,
The Dead C,
Sällskapet,
Mad Mike,
Alice Coltrane,
Subhumans,
Excepter,
Rotary Connection,
The Sisters of Mercy,
U.S. Maple,
Moebius,
The Modern Lovers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sonny Sharrock,
UT,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nik Kershaw,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.