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 Ireland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Depeche Mode to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Black Flag,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Victims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maleditus Sound,
The Standells,
The Flesh Eaters,
R.M.O.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dead C,
Pantaleimon,
Buzzcocks,
Alton Ellis,
Arab on Radar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Heaven 17,
Brass Construction,
Mo-Dettes,
La Düsseldorf,
London Community Gospel Choir,
D'Angelo,
David Bowie,
Minny Pops,
T.S.O.L.,
Severed Heads,
Duran Duran,
Max Romeo,
The Zeros,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Whodini,
Sun City Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Roy Ayers,
Royal Trux,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
K-Klass,
The Count Five,
Ohio Players,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Copeland,
The Raincoats,
The Pretty Things,
Pole,
Crash Course in Science,
Nick Fraelich,
The Dirtbombs,
Nik Kershaw,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Television,
Von Mondo,
Pierre Henry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vladislav Delay,
Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Section 25,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.