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 Macedonia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Lindisfarne to the techno 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger 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 a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Deepchord,
Newcleus,
June of 44,
Chrome,
Jeff Lynne,
Cybotron,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rapeman,
Hardrive,
John Coltrane,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Parrish,
The Golliwogs,
Prince Buster,
Fear,
Bill Wells,
EPMD,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Swans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Little Man,
Camberwell Now,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alison Limerick,
Pylon,
Avey Tare,
ABC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Depeche Mode,
Matthew Bourne,
The Victims,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Subhumans,
Sarah Menescal,
The Names,
The Saints,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Green,
Half Japanese,
CMW,
U.S. Maple,
Clear Light,
Terry Callier,
Barrington Levy,
Jacques Brel,
the Sonics,
Symarip,
Johnny Osbourne,
The New Christs,
Arcadia,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Thee Headcoats,
The Skatalites,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.