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 Senegal and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Joensuu 1685 to the grime 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Barrington Levy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Urselle,
The American Breed,
Stiv Bators,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marmalade,
X-Ray Spex,
The Litter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neu!,
Spoonie Gee,
One Last Wish,
Motorama,
Nik Kershaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angry Samoans,
Fat Boys,
The Buckinghams,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Junior Murvin,
48th St. Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Wyatt,
The Offenders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mark Hollis,
Thompson Twins,
Ronnie Foster,
Letta Mbulu,
The United States of America,
Charles Mingus,
Ituana,
Swell Maps,
The Happenings,
Donald Byrd,
Scott Walker,
Unrelated Segments,
Au Pairs,
La Düsseldorf,
The Slits,
Quando Quango,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Young Rascals,
Derrick May,
Michelle Simonal,
Liliput,
Reuben Wilson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Toasters,
Supertramp,
Japan,
Fear,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tres Demented,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Sherman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Banda Bassotti,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.