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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Kerri Chandler to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
The Star Department,
Mark Hollis,
New Order,
The Gap Band,
Marc Almond,
Quando Quango,
Ludus,
Inner City,
Morten Harket,
Grauzone,
Clear Light,
Amon Düül II,
Maurizio,
Bobby Byrd,
Icehouse,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gories,
The Beau Brummels,
Lower 48,
Japan,
Marmalade,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Robert Görl,
U.S. Maple,
Trumans Water,
Niagra,
Aural Exciters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blackbyrds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Clarke,
Terry Callier,
Franke,
The Toasters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Remains,
Pole,
Gichy Dan,
Shoche,
Radio Birdman,
The Gun Club,
Underground Resistance,
Porter Ricks,
Audionom,
Rekid,
Country Teasers,
Zapp,
Warsaw,
Gabor Szabo,
The Tremeloes,
Man Parrish,
Matthew Bourne,
Anakelly,
The Zeros,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
June Days,
Maleditus Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.