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 Sierra Leone and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mummies,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-101,
Sällskapet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Supertramp,
Hardrive,
Kool Moe Dee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Loose Ends,
Bronski Beat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moebius,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Essential Logic,
Chrome,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lungfish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacques Brel,
Bob Dylan,
Morten Harket,
Cecil Taylor,
Henry Cow,
The Remains,
Pagans,
Alison Limerick,
Blancmange,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacob Miller,
Ituana,
Vainqueur,
The Black Dice,
Ronnie Foster,
Soft Cell,
The Divine Comedy,
Brick,
The Tremeloes,
Kas Product,
D'Angelo,
Second Layer,
Con Funk Shun,
Agitation Free,
Grey Daturas,
Bush Tetras,
Letta Mbulu,
Lightning Bolt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mantronix,
Nik Kershaw,
8 Eyed Spy,
Accadde A,
The Happenings,
Q65,
Godley & Creme,
The Litter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Severed Heads,
Bad Manners,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.