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 Pakistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the rock 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül,
The Fortunes,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Halsall,
Godley & Creme,
The Searchers,
The Busters,
Lungfish,
Letta Mbulu,
Q65,
Rapeman,
The Offenders,
The Doors,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reagan Youth,
Infiniti,
Skaos,
The Real Kids,
Joey Negro,
Bad Manners,
X-Ray Spex,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Matthew Bourne,
Eric Dolphy,
The Five Americans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Trumans Water,
Quantec,
Surgeon,
Jacques Brel,
The Gories,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABBA,
John Cale,
Faraquet,
Davy DMX,
Neu!,
Dave Gahan,
Marmalade,
Drexciya,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crime,
Guru Guru,
F. McDonald,
The Angels of Light,
Lightning Bolt,
Sight & Sound,
Quando Quango,
Morten Harket,
Laurel Aitken,
Kas Product,
Roxy Music,
Darondo,
Arab on Radar,
Stetsasonic,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.