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 Kenya and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Rekid,
X-101,
This Heat,
Audionom,
Black Sheep,
Marvin Gaye,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mars,
John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
the Association,
The Kinks,
The Associates,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arthur Verocai,
The Skatalites,
Bill Wells,
Dark Day,
Erykah Badu,
The Gories,
The Dead C,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cal Tjader,
Public Enemy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Banda Bassotti,
Tubeway Army,
Bob Dylan,
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Peter & Gordon,
Minnie Riperton,
Yellowson,
Can,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slits,
Rapeman,
Eric Dolphy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
Magma,
the Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
Circle Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Invisible,
Masters at Work,
Spandau Ballet,
Pierre Henry,
Minutemen,
the Slits,
Visage,
Half Japanese,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.