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 Luxembourg and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Danielle Patucci to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Banda Bassotti,
Soft Cell,
Section 25,
Severed Heads,
Liliput,
Con Funk Shun,
Von Mondo,
Symarip,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blues Magoos,
UT,
Masters at Work,
Blake Baxter,
Hashim,
Skriet,
Flamin' Groovies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Buzzcocks,
Steve Hackett,
David McCallum,
E-Dancer,
The Cowsills,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gladiators,
New Age Steppers,
World's Most,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fugazi,
The Music Machine,
The J.B.'s,
Jacob Miller,
Theoretical Girls,
The Barracudas,
Slave,
Spandau Ballet,
Bizarre Inc.,
F. McDonald,
The Index,
The Mummies,
Swans,
Derrick Morgan,
Royal Trux,
In Retrospect,
The Tremeloes,
Television,
the Fania All-Stars,
LL Cool J,
Technova,
Sam Rivers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DNA,
The Victims,
Chrome,
Moss Icon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
PIL,
Desert Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ice-T,
Zapp,
The Electric Prunes,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.