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 Mongolia and from Shanghai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Suicide to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Vainqueur,
Anthony Braxton,
Mark Hollis,
Cheater Slicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Harmonia,
Excepter,
Pantaleimon,
Spandau Ballet,
Funkadelic,
Tubeway Army,
Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Joy Division,
Boogie Down Productions,
Organ,
Faust,
Infiniti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minutemen,
Bill Near,
Rosa Yemen,
Talk Talk,
Dennis Brown,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Motions,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Star Department,
Eden Ahbez,
Monolake,
Ossler,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Bluetip,
The Kinks,
Trumans Water,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Heaven 17,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Colin Newman,
Morten Harket,
Black Moon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pylon,
Kas Product,
The Busters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rakim,
The Grass Roots,
Clear Light,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Massinfluence,
Minnie Riperton,
The Monochrome Set,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gladiators,
Maurizio,
Deakin,
EPMD,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Slits,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.