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 the UAE and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 the Fania All-Stars to the rock 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Searchers,
The Music Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Marine Girls,
Harry Pussy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Charles Mingus,
Country Teasers,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alphaville,
Donny Hathaway,
Sugar Minott,
Niagra,
Gichy Dan,
DNA,
Guru Guru,
The Vogues,
Lower 48,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Young Rascals,
Thompson Twins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rekid,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry's Kids,
Stereo Dub,
Brick,
Agitation Free,
Amazonics,
The Stooges,
Swans,
Underground Resistance,
Suicide,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Negative Approach,
Soft Cell,
The Monks,
Tom Boy,
Black Moon,
The Fuzztones,
The Litter,
Skaos,
Radiohead,
Silicon Teens,
Wasted Youth,
Bad Manners,
OOIOO,
Marc Almond,
The Standells,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sparks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brand Nubian,
Roger Hodgson,
Alton Ellis,
Nico,
Johnny Clarke,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.