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 Poland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Marcia Griffiths to the grunge 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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grauzone,
Dennis Brown,
World's Most,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Zeros,
The Young Rascals,
X-101,
a-ha,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Supertramp,
Au Pairs,
Flash Fearless,
Davy DMX,
Ultravox,
Organ,
Q and Not U,
The Misunderstood,
Kayak,
Thompson Twins,
Matthew Bourne,
Arab on Radar,
Cybotron,
Fatback Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Sugar Minott,
Blake Baxter,
Jacques Brel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Searchers,
Brick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ice-T,
Jerry's Kids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Black Dice,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ituana,
the Swans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scientists,
Mary Jane Girls,
AZ,
Joensuu 1685,
DJ Style,
10cc,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Byron Stingily,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Brand Nubian,
Crash Course in Science,
The Star Department,
Henry Cow,
Nirvana,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.