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 Monaco and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 KRS-One to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mad Mike,
Scientists,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Bowie,
Slick Rick,
Crooked Eye,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Ken Boothe,
Derrick Morgan,
Intrusion,
Barry Ungar,
Rakim,
Simply Red,
Donald Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Bauhaus,
Sex Pistols,
Brand Nubian,
Bang On A Can,
Babytalk,
Motorama,
the Swans,
Drexciya,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
AZ,
Junior Murvin,
Outsiders,
Scan 7,
The Blackbyrds,
Dead Boys,
Ohio Players,
Fela Kuti,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gories,
PIL,
Buzzcocks,
Second Layer,
Sandy B,
X-101,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Davy DMX,
U.S. Maple,
Maleditus Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
Cal Tjader,
Los Fastidios,
Alphaville,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Offenders,
Visage,
Lee Hazlewood,
Donny Hathaway,
Janne Schatter,
the Slits,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pere Ubu,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.