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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Michael McDonald 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 Metal Thangz to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
The Move,
Basic Channel,
Dennis Brown,
The Music Machine,
F. McDonald,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nico,
Soul II Soul,
Gong,
Unwound,
T.S.O.L.,
Ponytail,
Index,
Ohio Players,
The Durutti Column,
Carl Craig,
Inner City,
Second Layer,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joe Smooth,
The Moody Blues,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Piero Umiliani,
The Pop Group,
Zapp,
Alison Limerick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Babytalk,
The Fortunes,
Royal Trux,
Mark Hollis,
Ultra Naté,
Underground Resistance,
Fear,
The Blues Magoos,
Qualms,
The Happenings,
Joe Finger,
Matthew Bourne,
Ken Boothe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Count Five,
Blossom Toes,
the Normal,
Lalo Schifrin,
Electric Prunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grey Daturas,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül II,
Stereo Dub,
Absolute Body Control,
Dead Boys,
Magazine,
U.S. Maple,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.