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 Gabon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Tom Boy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Barclay James Harvest,
Trumans Water,
The Knickerbockers,
Hardrive,
Whodini,
Sun Ra,
Malaria!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Peter and Kerry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gun Club,
The Fuzztones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bang On A Can,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Television Personalities,
Swell Maps,
Tim Buckley,
R.M.O.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Motions,
Swans,
Quantec,
Arthur Verocai,
Scratch Acid,
Bronski Beat,
Duran Duran,
Soft Machine,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Babytalk,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Residents,
JFA,
Bob Dylan,
Steve Hackett,
Bluetip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joey Negro,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eden Ahbez,
Erykah Badu,
Aswad,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scrapy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moby Grape,
The Five Americans,
Motorama,
Prince Buster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roger Hodgson,
Soul II Soul,
Shoche,
Johnny Osbourne,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.