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 Belgium and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Q and Not U to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roxy Music,
Rakim,
The Martian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Barclay James Harvest,
Technova,
Sandy B,
Unwound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Minutemen,
the Normal,
The Neon Judgement,
Stetsasonic,
Young Marble Giants,
CMW,
Joe Finger,
Monks,
The United States of America,
D'Angelo,
AZ,
Boredoms,
Spandau Ballet,
Wolf Eyes,
Lyres,
Erasure,
Max Romeo,
The Angels of Light,
Half Japanese,
Clear Light,
The Monochrome Set,
Main Source,
Rites of Spring,
Josef K,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Monolake,
Derrick May,
Spoonie Gee,
Talk Talk,
Outsiders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Deadbeat,
Echospace,
The Slits,
Johnny Clarke,
The Trojans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roger Hodgson,
Goldenarms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dennis Brown,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Electric Prunes,
Roxette,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eddi Front,
Hoover,
The Flesh Eaters,
Silicon Teens,
Public Enemy,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.