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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro 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 Gil Scott Heron to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
The New Christs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Accadde A,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Surgeon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang of Four,
Colin Newman,
Parry Music,
Cybotron,
Japan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minny Pops,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultra Naté,
Peter and Kerry,
Los Fastidios,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
X-Ray Spex,
New York Dolls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Al Stewart,
Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ten City,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dirtbombs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wings,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tears for Fears,
Radiohead,
Procol Harum,
Fugazi,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
Warsaw,
the Association,
Ultravox,
Simply Red,
The Neon Judgement,
Throbbing Gristle,
U.S. Maple,
Janne Schatter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bauhaus,
The Evens,
The Smiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.