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 Angola and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Eurythmics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Roger Hodgson,
Ituana,
The Neon Judgement,
Television,
Joey Negro,
Lalann,
Bobby Sherman,
Spoonie Gee,
Crooked Eye,
48th St. Collective,
Cybotron,
Mary Jane Girls,
Morten Harket,
Connie Case,
The Red Krayola,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
Bad Manners,
Mark Hollis,
Wings,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Görl,
Glambeats Corp.,
Icehouse,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skaos,
The Pretty Things,
Supertramp,
Buzzcocks,
Essential Logic,
Charles Mingus,
The United States of America,
the Bar-Kays,
Magma,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Second Layer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Cymande,
The New Christs,
Sister Nancy,
Malaria!,
OOIOO,
The Names,
The Music Machine,
Brass Construction,
Rites of Spring,
Newcleus,
Ponytail,
Cluster,
Mission of Burma,
Warsaw,
Johnny Osbourne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dave Gahan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cramps,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Golliwogs,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.