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 Lebanon and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Motorama to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Arab on Radar,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brick,
Lou Christie,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boz Scaggs,
Animal Collective,
The Seeds,
John Lydon,
the Sonics,
Fugazi,
Vladislav Delay,
The Raincoats,
Underground Resistance,
Davy DMX,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mo-Dettes,
Sparks,
Black Moon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Neu!,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mad Mike,
Soft Cell,
The Five Americans,
Talk Talk,
Ossler,
Joe Finger,
Dave Gahan,
Second Layer,
Rites of Spring,
Wasted Youth,
Au Pairs,
Flipper,
Brass Construction,
Moebius,
Niagra,
Eric Copeland,
X-101,
Porter Ricks,
Circle Jerks,
The Toasters,
The Index,
Ice-T,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kurtis Blow,
The Red Krayola,
the Slits,
Aural Exciters,
Deadbeat,
X-102,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
The Invisible,
Depeche Mode,
the Normal,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.