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 Netherlands and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Spandau Ballet to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Brand Nubian,
Tommy Roe,
Aural Exciters,
Aloha Tigers,
The Moody Blues,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Golliwogs,
Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
KRS-One,
Aswad,
The Moleskins,
Zapp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sun City Girls,
Black Flag,
Blossom Toes,
Monolake,
Sällskapet,
June of 44,
Hot Snakes,
Donny Hathaway,
Carl Craig,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alton Ellis,
Infiniti,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-102,
Rakim,
Schoolly D,
Rotary Connection,
Tears for Fears,
Qualms,
Eli Mardock,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers,
Circle Jerks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
Crash Course in Science,
Lakeside,
F. McDonald,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Hood,
The Neon Judgement,
Prince Buster,
DJ Style,
Alison Limerick,
Derrick May,
Suburban Knight,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Second Layer,
The Black Dice,
The Fall,
Little Man,
The Walker Brothers,
Au Pairs,
Sonic Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.