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 Suriname and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Anakelly,
Gang Starr,
cv313,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sex Pistols,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
Minnie Riperton,
Iggy Pop,
Mission of Burma,
Quantec,
Silicon Teens,
Eric Dolphy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Janne Schatter,
Royal Trux,
Infiniti,
Hasil Adkins,
Radio Birdman,
Don Cherry,
Negative Approach,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Charles Mingus,
Mr. Review,
Arthur Verocai,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kayak,
Barbara Tucker,
Excepter,
Loose Ends,
Frankie Knuckles,
Piero Umiliani,
Aaron Thompson,
Skaos,
The Trojans,
Bad Manners,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lakeside,
Cymande,
Morten Harket,
Hardrive,
Sun Ra,
Cheater Slicks,
Minny Pops,
X-Ray Spex,
Matthew Halsall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marmalade,
Kevin Saunderson,
Darondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DNA,
Sandy B,
Bob Dylan,
David Bowie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minutemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.