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 Sri Lanka and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Sexual Harrassment to the dance 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cameo,
Robert Hood,
Blancmange,
James White and The Blacks,
Lakeside,
Pussy Galore,
PIL,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultravox,
Eve St. Jones,
Y Pants,
Technova,
Massinfluence,
Organ,
Vainqueur,
Kaleidoscope,
Sonic Youth,
Lindisfarne,
Pere Ubu,
Godley & Creme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Vogues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cymande,
the Swans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kurtis Blow,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arab on Radar,
Wolf Eyes,
Oneida,
Urselle,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skarface,
Inner City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Procol Harum,
The Mojo Men,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Warsaw,
Monolake,
Andrew Hill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Prunes,
Derrick May,
ABC,
This Heat,
The Zeros,
The Remains,
Visage,
Bronski Beat,
Rakim,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.