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 Nepal and from Glasgow.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Easy Going,
Delon & Dalcan,
Clear Light,
Yazoo,
The Knickerbockers,
Pantytec,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Babytalk,
The Durutti Column,
Marine Girls,
Visage,
Fat Boys,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
MDC,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Happenings,
Procol Harum,
Ohio Players,
LL Cool J,
Nik Kershaw,
Bob Dylan,
Crash Course in Science,
The Detroit Cobras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blossom Toes,
Sight & Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Outsiders,
CMW,
Quantec,
Roxy Music,
Slick Rick,
The Smoke,
Charles Mingus,
Barbara Tucker,
Sister Nancy,
Todd Rundgren,
K-Klass,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Terry,
The Kinks,
Minnie Riperton,
Porter Ricks,
Eurythmics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hoover,
Deakin,
Heaven 17,
Jacob Miller,
Wings,
Danielle Patucci,
Angry Samoans,
Jeff Mills,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Oneida,
Roger Hodgson,
Scratch Acid,
Young Marble Giants,
Quadrant,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.