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 Peru and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Crooked Eye to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Ten City,
The Fire Engines,
The Evens,
The Martian,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Intrusion,
Fela Kuti,
Black Bananas,
Gong,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
Deadbeat,
Crash Course in Science,
Sarah Menescal,
Josef K,
Brothers Johnson,
Pere Ubu,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Y Pants,
Buzzcocks,
FM Einheit,
The Smoke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Japan,
Lindisfarne,
Zero Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
The Associates,
Bobby Byrd,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Pus,
Byron Stingily,
Unrelated Segments,
Duran Duran,
AZ,
Banda Bassotti,
Popol Vuh,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gabor Szabo,
Kayak,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Young Marble Giants,
Scott Walker,
Junior Murvin,
Television Personalities,
Sun Ra,
Inner City,
Howard Jones,
Minor Threat,
Morten Harket,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Saints,
Jacob Miller,
Lower 48,
the Soft Cell,
Althea and Donna,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.