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 Sierra Leone and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 rhodes 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 Spoonie Gee to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Fela Kuti,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joe Smooth,
John Foxx,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Smog,
Pole,
Yaz,
The Leaves,
Mantronix,
Scientists,
The Gap Band,
the Human League,
Porter Ricks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Searchers,
Aural Exciters,
Guru Guru,
Joey Negro,
DNA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Surgeon,
Soft Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
The Real Kids,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Christie,
Mo-Dettes,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Pop Group,
Fat Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Judy Mowatt,
Alice Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
The Evens,
The Standells,
Soulsonic Force,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronnie Foster,
New York Dolls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sam Rivers,
Kerri Chandler,
Quando Quango,
Chris & Cosey,
Parry Music,
Lungfish,
Newcleus,
Freddie Wadling,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Busters,
Warsaw,
Shoche,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roger Hodgson,
The Raincoats,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.