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 Tonga and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kerri Chandler 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Lou Reed,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Monks,
Television Personalities,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Saccharine Trust,
Erasure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Liliput,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronan,
The Dirtbombs,
Eddi Front,
Kenny Larkin,
Banda Bassotti,
Reuben Wilson,
Mr. Review,
Silicon Teens,
U.S. Maple,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
Joe Finger,
The Litter,
The Gap Band,
Country Teasers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Supertramp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The United States of America,
The Moleskins,
Fela Kuti,
Thompson Twins,
Deadbeat,
Yusef Lateef,
Bad Manners,
Sällskapet,
Surgeon,
Audionom,
Marvin Gaye,
Goldenarms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Sheep,
The Last Poets,
Sam Rivers,
June Days,
Alton Ellis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Coltrane,
Jeff Lynne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nas,
Hasil Adkins,
The Blues Magoos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.