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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kinks to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Freddie Wadling,
The Zeros,
The Flesh Eaters,
U.S. Maple,
Colin Newman,
Tears for Fears,
Marvin Gaye,
Lightning Bolt,
the Slits,
Royal Trux,
The Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Big Daddy Kane,
Magazine,
Radio Birdman,
The Fall,
the Fania All-Stars,
OOIOO,
Ornette Coleman,
Delta 5,
Television Personalities,
Unrelated Segments,
PIL,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Model 500,
Robert Hood,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ituana,
Scott Walker,
Rapeman,
Hoover,
Vladislav Delay,
Brass Construction,
Aswad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Los Fastidios,
The Tremeloes,
The Vogues,
Crash Course in Science,
The J.B.'s,
Tim Buckley,
Arcadia,
Can,
Roxy Music,
The Blackbyrds,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Halsall,
Skriet,
The Cramps,
Arab on Radar,
Aural Exciters,
Nas,
Animal Collective,
Henry Cow,
The Techniques,
Hasil Adkins,
Soul II Soul,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.