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 Spain and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes 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 Grauzone to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Trojans,
Gang Starr,
L. Decosne,
The Saints,
Aswad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Sonics,
Altered Images,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stetsasonic,
The Motions,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lakeside,
Matthew Halsall,
The Happenings,
Alice Coltrane,
Crooked Eye,
Rapeman,
Johnny Clarke,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Doors,
Desert Stars,
Funkadelic,
Reagan Youth,
Cameo,
The Real Kids,
The Zeros,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry's Kids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Evens,
Dawn Penn,
Pylon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Groovy Waters,
The Barracudas,
Panda Bear,
Blossom Toes,
Harmonia,
Harry Pussy,
Minor Threat,
Organ,
EPMD,
Simply Red,
Eurythmics,
Main Source,
James White and The Blacks,
Colin Newman,
Hardrive,
U.S. Maple,
Todd Terry,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boz Scaggs,
Pantaleimon,
The Monks,
Bluetip,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.