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 Niger and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fear 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Red Krayola,
Suburban Knight,
Marshall Jefferson,
Popol Vuh,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spandau Ballet,
Amazonics,
Interpol,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wasted Youth,
Bluetip,
Matthew Halsall,
Loose Ends,
Pagans,
Tomorrow,
Fatback Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gun Club,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New York Dolls,
Siglo XX,
Althea and Donna,
Flipper,
Scan 7,
Camouflage,
The Moody Blues,
Jawbox,
Joyce Sims,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Visage,
Lebanon Hanover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mantronix,
Jeff Mills,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deakin,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Janne Schatter,
These Immortal Souls,
Brand Nubian,
Yazoo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
This Heat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swell Maps,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Bananas,
John Holt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Parry Music,
Animal Collective,
Youth Brigade,
Joe Finger,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.