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 Australia and from Houston.
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 Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Bobby Sherman to the punk 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sister Nancy,
Kayak,
Franke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Patti Smith,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moby Grape,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Monks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
ABBA,
Roxette,
The Cure,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Guru Guru,
Can,
The Toasters,
Marc Almond,
F. McDonald,
D'Angelo,
Charles Mingus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Interpol,
Los Fastidios,
Ralphi Rosario,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Darondo,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
10cc,
Lyres,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Red Krayola,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slick Rick,
Surgeon,
Bobby Byrd,
Nas,
Roger Hodgson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Birthday Party,
The Modern Lovers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Sherman,
PIL,
The Litter,
Ronan,
Dark Day,
Babytalk,
Pulsallama,
Marine Girls,
Pagans,
KRS-One,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Severed Heads,
Man Eating Sloth,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.