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 Cambodia and from Accra.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Niagra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Black Flag,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Carl Craig,
Blossom Toes,
Jerry's Kids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Slick Rick,
Scientists,
Easy Going,
Black Bananas,
Yusef Lateef,
Anakelly,
Kas Product,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Animal Collective,
Infiniti,
Absolute Body Control,
The Monochrome Set,
Cameo,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Remains,
Jesper Dahlback,
Qualms,
The Beau Brummels,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Josef K,
Janne Schatter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deakin,
Todd Rundgren,
Heaven 17,
Brand Nubian,
The Victims,
DNA,
Rod Modell,
Connie Case,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Niagra,
Flash Fearless,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
Bobby Womack,
Camouflage,
Black Moon,
Buzzcocks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moleskins,
Lungfish,
Deadbeat,
Hoover,
Peter and Kerry,
Suburban Knight,
The Fall,
June Days,
Neu!,
Scrapy,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.