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 Tuvalu and from Halifax.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sex Pistols to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joey Negro,
Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Rekid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ronnie Foster,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Albert Ayler,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crash Course in Science,
Dave Gahan,
Bang On A Can,
Eric Dolphy,
Average White Band,
Swell Maps,
The Gladiators,
Jawbox,
John Coltrane,
The Saints,
The Cure,
Ten City,
Soulsonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
Connie Case,
Franke,
Ituana,
The Happenings,
Severed Heads,
Youth Brigade,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Livin' Joy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slackers,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Black Bananas,
Suicide,
The Gap Band,
World's Most,
Audionom,
Khruangbin,
Sex Pistols,
Cal Tjader,
Flash Fearless,
Ralphi Rosario,
Susan Cadogan,
Smog,
Quando Quango,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stereo Dub,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Skaos,
In Retrospect,
Symarip,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.