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 Mongolia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Monolake to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
The Residents,
Pagans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cheater Slicks,
T.S.O.L.,
Pere Ubu,
This Heat,
Sandy B,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Searchers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Matthew Bourne,
Mandrill,
Marmalade,
Urselle,
Howard Jones,
Pierre Henry,
Robert Hood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers,
Reagan Youth,
Procol Harum,
JFA,
Boz Scaggs,
Sparks,
The Techniques,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Human League,
Frankie Knuckles,
Average White Band,
Oblivians,
kango's stein massive,
Simply Red,
Television Personalities,
The Dead C,
The Velvet Underground,
Los Fastidios,
Morten Harket,
Gabor Szabo,
Bauhaus,
Lou Christie,
Moby Grape,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flash Fearless,
Toni Rubio,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Star Department,
Kurtis Blow,
Niagra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deakin,
John Lydon,
New Age Steppers,
Japan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Shoche,
The Move,
Mad Mike,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.