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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eurythmics to the jazz 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dead C,
Silicon Teens,
Kool Moe Dee,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Aloha Tigers,
Rod Modell,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sandy B,
The Gun Club,
Connie Case,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Slick Rick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maleditus Sound,
Roxy Music,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lindisfarne,
Dead Boys,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dave Gahan,
Sun City Girls,
Marmalade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deakin,
Babytalk,
The Misunderstood,
Ronan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pole,
Jerry's Kids,
Franke,
The Residents,
Arcadia,
Mission of Burma,
The Fall,
Kevin Saunderson,
Blancmange,
Peter and Kerry,
The Victims,
Steve Hackett,
Matthew Bourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Anakelly,
The Doors,
Rites of Spring,
Josef K,
The Last Poets,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
June Days,
This Heat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.