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 Montenegro and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cosmic Jokers to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
The Alarm Clocks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Move,
8 Eyed Spy,
Spandau Ballet,
MC5,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Moleskins,
Pagans,
Fela Kuti,
June of 44,
Crispy Ambulance,
Juan Atkins,
Drexciya,
the Fania All-Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
Porter Ricks,
Altered Images,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
Danielle Patucci,
Bad Manners,
The Selecter,
Sound Behaviour,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Clarke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deadbeat,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cybotron,
H. Thieme,
Unrelated Segments,
Yellowson,
Morten Harket,
Blancmange,
Arab on Radar,
Barrington Levy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Echospace,
Ituana,
Leonard Cohen,
Terry Callier,
the Human League,
The Young Rascals,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soulsonic Force,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roy Ayers,
Todd Terry,
Technova,
X-102,
Quando Quango,
Bang On A Can,
Minutemen,
Laurel Aitken,
Motorama,
Arthur Verocai,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Slits,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.