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 Japan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Circle Jerks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed,
Main Source,
Infiniti,
Roy Ayers,
Gang of Four,
New York Dolls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nick Fraelich,
Kerrie Biddell,
Spandau Ballet,
The Buckinghams,
Sarah Menescal,
CMW,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Electric Prunes,
Television,
Deepchord,
Icehouse,
Sex Pistols,
The Stooges,
The Gladiators,
Funkadelic,
Mission of Burma,
Skaos,
Fluxion,
Depeche Mode,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cymande,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bad Manners,
Anthony Braxton,
Quadrant,
Danielle Patucci,
Eddi Front,
James White and The Blacks,
Magazine,
Matthew Bourne,
Parry Music,
U.S. Maple,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mojo Men,
Clear Light,
Bill Wells,
Slick Rick,
Black Pus,
Pylon,
The Doors,
Urselle,
Section 25,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Monks,
Blossom Toes,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agent Orange,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yaz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.