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 Uruguay and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bad Manners to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Soft Cell,
Todd Rundgren,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Machine,
Motorama,
Animal Collective,
Basic Channel,
Supertramp,
Amazonics,
Icehouse,
Arcadia,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sound Behaviour,
The Star Department,
Metal Thangz,
Man Parrish,
Thee Headcoats,
F. McDonald,
The Gladiators,
Babytalk,
MC5,
Donald Byrd,
DJ Style,
The Five Americans,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Divine Comedy,
Mandrill,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ossler,
Minnie Riperton,
Junior Murvin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Derrick Morgan,
the Slits,
The Remains,
Pantytec,
Reuben Wilson,
Yellowson,
Connie Case,
Scrapy,
The Cowsills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donny Hathaway,
Joey Negro,
The Leaves,
Lungfish,
Subhumans,
Barbara Tucker,
Suburban Knight,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moebius,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Easy Going,
Pierre Henry,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.