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 Samoa and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Doors to the disco 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
The Tremeloes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barrington Levy,
Funkadelic,
Ronan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Angels of Light,
Excepter,
David Axelrod,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nik Kershaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echospace,
Sam Rivers,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Green,
Pierre Henry,
Marc Almond,
Marvin Gaye,
Aswad,
The Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
The Barracudas,
Alton Ellis,
Animal Collective,
Carl Craig,
Gong,
Freddie Wadling,
Outsiders,
Rapeman,
E-Dancer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
Rod Modell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boz Scaggs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Morten Harket,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
U.S. Maple,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Soft Cell,
Malaria!,
Bobby Byrd,
Frankie Knuckles,
Juan Atkins,
The Remains,
Smog,
Chrome,
Eddi Front,
Girls At Our Best!,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Royal Trux,
Radiohead,
Archie Shepp,
Monks,
Sandy B,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.