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 Liberia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bill Wells to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
the Fania All-Stars,
Al Stewart,
The Mojo Men,
Magma,
Gang Green,
Echospace,
Moebius,
The Monks,
Roxette,
Jacques Brel,
Index,
The Cramps,
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick Morgan,
The Pretty Things,
Patti Smith,
LL Cool J,
UT,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Banda Bassotti,
Roxy Music,
Joe Smooth,
Hoover,
Roy Ayers,
Simply Red,
The Doobie Brothers,
Public Enemy,
Swans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rosa Yemen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cheater Slicks,
Main Source,
Niagra,
ABBA,
Moby Grape,
Jacob Miller,
Parry Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Angels of Light,
Todd Terry,
Japan,
Eric Copeland,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Five Americans,
June of 44,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deakin,
Susan Cadogan,
Flipper,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ken Boothe,
Masters at Work,
K-Klass,
The Gap Band,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.