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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Donald Fagen 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 Victims to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Sandy B,
Jerry's Kids,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ralphi Rosario,
Harmonia,
Prince Buster,
Isaac Hayes,
Supertramp,
Groovy Waters,
Circle Jerks,
Aswad,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gun Club,
New Order,
The Gories,
The Cramps,
The Fall,
The Happenings,
Main Source,
Bobby Womack,
Sound Behaviour,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra,
The Dirtbombs,
Al Stewart,
Quantec,
Soul II Soul,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Motorama,
Arthur Verocai,
Cybotron,
Mad Mike,
Eli Mardock,
Grauzone,
Lou Christie,
The Stooges,
Kool Moe Dee,
Stetsasonic,
Archie Shepp,
Sun City Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Urselle,
The Neon Judgement,
Yusef Lateef,
Fela Kuti,
Mantronix,
Tres Demented,
Sugar Minott,
The Star Department,
Quando Quango,
Godley & Creme,
Brand Nubian,
The Offenders,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mojo Men,
Frankie Knuckles,
DJ Style,
Man Eating Sloth,
Letta Mbulu,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.