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 Thailand and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Suicide to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Althea and Donna,
Television Personalities,
MDC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Anthony Braxton,
Tomorrow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bluetip,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
Eurythmics,
Quadrant,
the Human League,
The Young Rascals,
Rekid,
Rites of Spring,
L. Decosne,
The Names,
Ken Boothe,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gladiators,
Brothers Johnson,
X-102,
Lindisfarne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Görl,
The Slits,
Agent Orange,
Pole,
Flamin' Groovies,
Depeche Mode,
June Days,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jerry's Kids,
Youth Brigade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dorothy Ashby,
Underground Resistance,
Tears for Fears,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Near,
OOIOO,
The Gap Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pagans,
Lyres,
Sister Nancy,
Stiv Bators,
Johnny Osbourne,
Adolescents,
Lungfish,
Parry Music,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DNA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Metal Thangz,
JFA,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.