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 Samoa and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare 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 Groovy Waters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
AZ,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Neu!,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monochrome Set,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nico,
Al Stewart,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Groovy Waters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Slick Rick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Traffic Nightmare,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Malaria!,
In Retrospect,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rakim,
Underground Resistance,
Unwound,
The Happenings,
Bill Wells,
Black Moon,
Tom Boy,
The Smoke,
Moby Grape,
Outsiders,
The Beau Brummels,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Martian,
Minor Threat,
Pierre Henry,
48th St. Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Sneak,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
Quadrant,
Ultra Naté,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jacob Miller,
Brothers Johnson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T.S.O.L.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mars,
The Residents,
Bluetip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Model 500,
Zero Boys,
Pole,
Harpers Bizarre,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.