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 Algeria and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the funk 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Livin' Joy,
Massinfluence,
the Swans,
Sister Nancy,
Kayak,
Grauzone,
Slick Rick,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Trumans Water,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pere Ubu,
Bob Dylan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
June Days,
the Germs,
The Invisible,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
The Durutti Column,
The Happenings,
The Gories,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Victims,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
Ultravox,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Max Romeo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Near,
Robert Hood,
Desert Stars,
L. Decosne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Outsiders,
Goldenarms,
The Monks,
Eurythmics,
Depeche Mode,
Ultimate Spinach,
Banda Bassotti,
Barclay James Harvest,
Public Enemy,
New Order,
John Cale,
Second Layer,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Star Department,
Crime,
Skriet,
This Heat,
Can,
Country Teasers,
Easy Going,
Scan 7,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.