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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 The Moody Blues to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Sex Pistols,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soulsonic Force,
Bobby Womack,
Joe Finger,
The Searchers,
UT,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doors,
D'Angelo,
Peter and Kerry,
Main Source,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bauhaus,
Sugar Minott,
Angry Samoans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Enemy,
10cc,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Sheep,
The Birthday Party,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reuben Wilson,
The Busters,
the Human League,
Flamin' Groovies,
David McCallum,
Althea and Donna,
Model 500,
MDC,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Robert Hood,
Bob Dylan,
Reagan Youth,
Oblivians,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Buckinghams,
Suicide,
Fat Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus,
Ultra Naté,
Blancmange,
Nik Kershaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
The J.B.'s,
John Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pierre Henry,
Bluetip,
Henry Cow,
LL Cool J,
Dark Day,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.