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 Oman and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bob Dylan to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
KRS-One,
Nas,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Coltrane,
Janne Schatter,
Index,
The Black Dice,
Cameo,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cure,
cv313,
DNA,
Funkadelic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barry Ungar,
Black Flag,
Eric Copeland,
Althea and Donna,
Nirvana,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Almond,
Subhumans,
Can,
Roxy Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
Q and Not U,
Howard Jones,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vladislav Delay,
The Misunderstood,
The Litter,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
Depeche Mode,
Pole,
The Mummies,
Buzzcocks,
The Zeros,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soul II Soul,
AZ,
Camouflage,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Real Kids,
B.T. Express,
Ponytail,
ABBA,
The Happenings,
Rakim,
Sällskapet,
The Music Machine,
Slick Rick,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deadbeat,
Michelle Simonal,
Symarip,
Sun City Girls,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.