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 Togo 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 David Bowie to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mark Hollis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric Copeland,
Urselle,
Lebanon Hanover,
EPMD,
The Searchers,
Index,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gories,
Janne Schatter,
Sound Behaviour,
Schoolly D,
The Cramps,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Whodini,
Animal Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
The Invisible,
Faraquet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joyce Sims,
The Wake,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Johnny Osbourne,
June of 44,
Rekid,
Quando Quango,
Sister Nancy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
The Fire Engines,
Joey Negro,
the Human League,
The Saints,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Germs,
The Fall,
Hashim,
Roy Ayers,
Lower 48,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smoke,
Surgeon,
Yellowson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jawbox,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Offenders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skaos,
Boz Scaggs,
The Litter,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.