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 Slovakia and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grime 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Negative Approach,
David Axelrod,
Jerry's Kids,
The Monochrome Set,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Clear Light,
Vladislav Delay,
Eve St. Jones,
The Residents,
Camouflage,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Victims,
Sällskapet,
Marine Girls,
Bill Near,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gabor Szabo,
Fatback Band,
Joyce Sims,
Oblivians,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül II,
Public Image Ltd.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric Copeland,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Lydon,
Main Source,
B.T. Express,
Fluxion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mars,
Motorama,
Sex Pistols,
The Move,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swell Maps,
Reuben Wilson,
Whodini,
Brick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Almond,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
UT,
Roxette,
Urselle,
Davy DMX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lindisfarne,
DJ Style,
Fugazi,
Mark Hollis,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.