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 Sri Lanka and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dark Day,
OOIOO,
The Last Poets,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stiv Bators,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gories,
Cluster,
Hasil Adkins,
The Electric Prunes,
The Busters,
Oneida,
Joe Smooth,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Gabor Szabo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fugazi,
KRS-One,
Roxy Music,
Siglo XX,
Model 500,
The Toasters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Magazine,
Anakelly,
Donny Hathaway,
John Coltrane,
John Cale,
Cecil Taylor,
Yazoo,
Blake Baxter,
The Blackbyrds,
Hardrive,
Jeff Lynne,
The New Christs,
Rakim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The J.B.'s,
Pantytec,
Negative Approach,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Durutti Column,
Scrapy,
X-102,
T. Rex,
The Litter,
These Immortal Souls,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eli Mardock,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.