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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Qualms to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
The Knickerbockers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Durutti Column,
Lower 48,
Pet Shop Boys,
Shoche,
Alison Limerick,
Buzzcocks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun City Girls,
Grauzone,
CMW,
Neu!,
The Real Kids,
Joensuu 1685,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Wyatt,
Delta 5,
Eli Mardock,
Saccharine Trust,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Massinfluence,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flipper,
Arthur Verocai,
Cybotron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lucky Dragons,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Moon,
Byron Stingily,
June of 44,
Bronski Beat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Boredoms,
Reuben Wilson,
Gastr Del Sol,
UT,
The Victims,
The Raincoats,
Scrapy,
The Dirtbombs,
Parry Music,
PIL,
The Fugs,
Archie Shepp,
Vainqueur,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Walker Brothers,
Urselle,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.