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 Tuvalu and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Duran Duran to the punk 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
R.M.O.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash,
Supertramp,
The Real Kids,
Lightning Bolt,
Soft Cell,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Suicide,
Gang Green,
Yaz,
Ponytail,
the Slits,
The Offenders,
Boogie Down Productions,
The American Breed,
X-101,
Brothers Johnson,
Roger Hodgson,
Motorama,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Japan,
Todd Terry,
Freddie Wadling,
Ornette Coleman,
Arthur Verocai,
Althea and Donna,
B.T. Express,
UT,
PIL,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
China Crisis,
Tubeway Army,
Blossom Toes,
Steve Hackett,
Heaven 17,
Ronnie Foster,
Newcleus,
Michelle Simonal,
Sam Rivers,
Rapeman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rakim,
Jerry's Kids,
Spoonie Gee,
Henry Cow,
Hoover,
The Blues Magoos,
Ken Boothe,
Tim Buckley,
Mandrill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glenn Branca,
Thompson Twins,
the Swans,
Aaron Thompson,
Severed Heads,
Zero Boys,
Ohio Players,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.