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 Uruguay and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 David Bowie 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 Soft Cell to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marvin Gaye,
June of 44,
Au Pairs,
Fela Kuti,
Quando Quango,
Rakim,
Amazonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fuzztones,
Sex Pistols,
Stiv Bators,
Little Man,
the Association,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sandy B,
Juan Atkins,
Moebius,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Durutti Column,
The Blackbyrds,
The Grass Roots,
Maurizio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Metal Thangz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Amon Düül,
Yazoo,
Marmalade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Matthew Halsall,
The Slits,
The Leaves,
The Monochrome Set,
The Moody Blues,
The Birthday Party,
MDC,
Bill Wells,
Pantaleimon,
JFA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nils Olav,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pussy Galore,
CMW,
Peter & Gordon,
The American Breed,
Stetsasonic,
Darondo,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bluetip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cramps,
Kaleidoscope,
Agitation Free,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.