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 Saudi Arabia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Steve Hackett to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hood. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
The Mummies,
Theoretical Girls,
Josef K,
The Doors,
Soft Cell,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blancmange,
Tubeway Army,
Bootsy Collins,
Peter & Gordon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Golliwogs,
Liliput,
Black Flag,
Eddi Front,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Sherman,
The Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Silicon Teens,
Jeff Lynne,
Nirvana,
Delta 5,
Magma,
Roy Ayers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Surgeon,
Howard Jones,
Roxette,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Eurythmics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alphaville,
Desert Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lyres,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Motorama,
The Real Kids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Duran Duran,
Excepter,
Lucky Dragons,
Nas,
Matthew Bourne,
David McCallum,
ABC,
Cymande,
The Stooges,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxy Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Mandrill,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.