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 St Kitts & Nevis and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Judy Mowatt to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
D'Angelo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Boz Scaggs,
John Lydon,
Rod Modell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ronnie Foster,
New York Dolls,
JFA,
Visage,
Brass Construction,
Hasil Adkins,
Hardrive,
Aaron Thompson,
Iggy Pop,
June Days,
Crispian St. Peters,
The J.B.'s,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Popol Vuh,
Icehouse,
Whodini,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Searchers,
Dual Sessions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hashim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacques Brel,
Mars,
Sällskapet,
Faraquet,
Harry Pussy,
Kas Product,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ten City,
Moss Icon,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
Lalann,
The Remains,
Marvin Gaye,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marmalade,
The Motions,
Amon Düül II,
Blancmange,
Quando Quango,
Joyce Sims,
Easy Going,
Vainqueur,
Clear Light,
Slave,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.