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 Senegal and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Flipper to the electroclash 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Funkadelic,
DNA,
Heaven 17,
Brass Construction,
Royal Trux,
The Black Dice,
Motorama,
R.M.O.,
Soft Machine,
Pantytec,
Magazine,
T. Rex,
The Mojo Men,
Silicon Teens,
Ohio Players,
Metal Thangz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Swans,
Graham Central Station,
Soul II Soul,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Monks,
The Kinks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
K-Klass,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Young Marble Giants,
Brand Nubian,
Toni Rubio,
Maurizio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
Audionom,
Peter & Gordon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
MC5,
Deepchord,
Stiv Bators,
Iggy Pop,
The Last Poets,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
Dave Gahan,
The Moleskins,
B.T. Express,
Parry Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mr. Review,
Rhythm & Sound,
a-ha,
Basic Channel,
Amazonics,
The United States of America,
Trumans Water,
The Sonics,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.