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 Paraguay and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Eric Copeland to the funk 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Vogues,
Make Up,
Graham Central Station,
AZ,
Nik Kershaw,
Oblivians,
Rekid,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cure,
Sandy B,
Basic Channel,
X-Ray Spex,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Finger,
Agitation Free,
Rapeman,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scientists,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Sonics,
Wings,
Cecil Taylor,
Hashim,
The Tremeloes,
Ken Boothe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Electric Prunes,
The Pop Group,
Sister Nancy,
Country Teasers,
Cheater Slicks,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Guru Guru,
Zapp,
Intrusion,
Scratch Acid,
Ultra Naté,
Smog,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Byrd,
DJ Sneak,
Sight & Sound,
Mandrill,
Theoretical Girls,
Supertramp,
ABBA,
Matthew Halsall,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
World's Most,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Magma,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.