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 Brazil and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 Archie Shepp 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Associates,
Joe Finger,
Tears for Fears,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Star Department,
Faraquet,
Nico,
The Real Kids,
a-ha,
Sam Rivers,
Barrington Levy,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacques Brel,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Y Pants,
Blancmange,
The Moleskins,
Organ,
Scan 7,
Wings,
Susan Cadogan,
Hardrive,
Glambeats Corp.,
Main Source,
The Buckinghams,
Lyres,
X-Ray Spex,
The Offenders,
Rotary Connection,
Dead Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Boz Scaggs,
the Slits,
Lou Reed,
Pere Ubu,
Marvin Gaye,
Grauzone,
The Seeds,
Rapeman,
Saccharine Trust,
Popol Vuh,
Mr. Review,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jacob Miller,
Josef K,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Wyatt,
Harry Pussy,
Angry Samoans,
New Age Steppers,
Sister Nancy,
DJ Sneak,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
CMW,
Visage,
R.M.O.,
Second Layer,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.