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 Belarus and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Japan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Rites of Spring,
June of 44,
Spandau Ballet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Unwound,
Section 25,
Zapp,
The Blues Magoos,
Big Daddy Kane,
Adolescents,
Danielle Patucci,
The Remains,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
This Heat,
Neil Young,
The Fuzztones,
Nik Kershaw,
Maurizio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Drexciya,
June Days,
Amazonics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
F. McDonald,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultra Naté,
Oblivians,
New York Dolls,
The Techniques,
Brick,
The Monks,
Underground Resistance,
Judy Mowatt,
The Trojans,
Ronnie Foster,
Mr. Review,
B.T. Express,
Roxette,
Quando Quango,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joyce Sims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Starr,
Quadrant,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Al Stewart,
Audionom,
Niagra,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Leaves,
The Index,
Morten Harket,
Joensuu 1685,
Urselle,
Wasted Youth,
The Pop Group,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.