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 Bahamas and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Vogues to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Wells,
the Normal,
Thee Headcoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-101,
Alison Limerick,
Graham Central Station,
Stetsasonic,
The Cure,
Little Man,
Black Bananas,
Subhumans,
The Evens,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Moss Icon,
Heaven 17,
Terrestrial Tones,
Franke,
Index,
The Golliwogs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Loose Ends,
Trumans Water,
Erykah Badu,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Red Krayola,
The Pop Group,
The Five Americans,
Fat Boys,
Symarip,
Japan,
Derrick May,
Janne Schatter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Massinfluence,
Saccharine Trust,
Visage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amon Düül,
Desert Stars,
Make Up,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Finger,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
Masters at Work,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scan 7,
Johnny Clarke,
Byron Stingily,
Skarface,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rufus Thomas,
Alice Coltrane,
Los Fastidios,
EPMD,
The Invisible,
Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
Pantytec,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.