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 Lucia and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Blues Magoos to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Sällskapet,
The Saints,
Mo-Dettes,
Byron Stingily,
Unwound,
Supertramp,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Colin Newman,
The Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Donald Byrd,
Lakeside,
The Kinks,
Icehouse,
Matthew Halsall,
Maleditus Sound,
Hardrive,
Man Parrish,
Nas,
Harry Pussy,
The Happenings,
48th St. Collective,
The Raincoats,
10cc,
Cheater Slicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Motorama,
FM Einheit,
Eve St. Jones,
Tom Boy,
The Vogues,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Green,
Chris Corsano,
Crooked Eye,
The Buckinghams,
Al Stewart,
Parry Music,
Junior Murvin,
Sound Behaviour,
Urselle,
The Residents,
The Blackbyrds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Doors,
The J.B.'s,
Vladislav Delay,
Eli Mardock,
Lucky Dragons,
Scientists,
Young Marble Giants,
Deepchord,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Offenders,
Minor Threat,
New Order,
Patti Smith,
The Human League,
Pet Shop Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
MDC,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.