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 United States and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Con Funk Shun to the rock 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Ice-T,
Popol Vuh,
David McCallum,
The Five Americans,
The Raincoats,
Little Man,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Procol Harum,
Ossler,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang On A Can,
Echospace,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Desert Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eden Ahbez,
Graham Central Station,
Erasure,
This Heat,
ABC,
Tommy Roe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ohio Players,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soft Cell,
Clear Light,
U.S. Maple,
Tom Boy,
Erykah Badu,
Severed Heads,
the Association,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Susan Cadogan,
Hoover,
David Bowie,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scrapy,
Piero Umiliani,
Marine Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Maleditus Sound,
Darondo,
Amon Düül,
Jeff Mills,
Alton Ellis,
Symarip,
Theoretical Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cameo,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.