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 El Salvador and from Delhi.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Judy Mowatt to the disco 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Leaves,
Metal Thangz,
The Dead C,
The Gladiators,
Yellowson,
Pussy Galore,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Hoover,
Don Cherry,
June of 44,
Rapeman,
Robert Görl,
Unrelated Segments,
The Knickerbockers,
John Holt,
The Trojans,
Dead Boys,
Rod Modell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jawbox,
Minutemen,
Eric Dolphy,
Outsiders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pantytec,
Iggy Pop,
Stereo Dub,
H. Thieme,
DJ Sneak,
K-Klass,
Slave,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June Days,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
The United States of America,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flipper,
Rites of Spring,
X-102,
Amon Düül II,
Black Bananas,
The American Breed,
Mr. Review,
Alphaville,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Martian,
Maurizio,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Nils Olav,
The Doobie Brothers,
Moebius,
Scrapy,
Brand Nubian,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.