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 Gambia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Vainqueur to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Lalann,
Adolescents,
Amon Düül,
U.S. Maple,
The Moody Blues,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
Steve Hackett,
Main Source,
the Association,
Fifty Foot Hose,
AZ,
The Last Poets,
Gang of Four,
Darondo,
The Doors,
Arcadia,
Chrome,
Talk Talk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Saints,
Thee Headcoats,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moleskins,
Kenny Larkin,
Essential Logic,
The Birthday Party,
The Smoke,
Hot Snakes,
The Human League,
a-ha,
Amazonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hashim,
Marvin Gaye,
The Neon Judgement,
Robert Görl,
Drexciya,
John Foxx,
Skriet,
Ken Boothe,
Erasure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gichy Dan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Reed,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roxette,
The Slackers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Liliput,
DJ Style,
Wings,
The Real Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
New Age Steppers,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
Agitation Free,
Parry Music,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.