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 Nauru and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Cure to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
The Shadows of Knight,
cv313,
Danielle Patucci,
The American Breed,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gap Band,
Bluetip,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radio Birdman,
Eden Ahbez,
The Leaves,
Don Cherry,
Das Ding,
Vainqueur,
Rekid,
Magma,
Gang of Four,
The Velvet Underground,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
Spandau Ballet,
EPMD,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Niagra,
Negative Approach,
Oblivians,
Amazonics,
Brand Nubian,
Average White Band,
Brass Construction,
Moss Icon,
Anthony Braxton,
The Saints,
Fluxion,
Man Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Harry Pussy,
Sex Pistols,
Dark Day,
The Pretty Things,
Eli Mardock,
Scan 7,
The Blues Magoos,
K-Klass,
The Move,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dave Gahan,
Davy DMX,
Skarface,
Reagan Youth,
Al Stewart,
Procol Harum,
Aloha Tigers,
the Human League,
Delta 5,
The Count Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Goldenarms,
Buzzcocks,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.