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 Ethiopia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scan 7 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Eve St. Jones,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang of Four,
Pierre Henry,
Interpol,
Absolute Body Control,
Pet Shop Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Ohio Players,
Bill Near,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Toasters,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Sherman,
Buzzcocks,
Bob Dylan,
Royal Trux,
Television Personalities,
Cameo,
Chris Corsano,
Easy Going,
Crime,
Kas Product,
the Slits,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rapeman,
Accadde A,
Half Japanese,
Sällskapet,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Arthur Verocai,
Michelle Simonal,
Gichy Dan,
Ornette Coleman,
MDC,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eurythmics,
Animal Collective,
Steve Hackett,
DNA,
Suburban Knight,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tears for Fears,
Brass Construction,
cv313,
Tropical Tobacco,
Make Up,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aswad,
Avey Tare,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Silicon Teens,
The Selecter,
The Techniques,
The Doors,
Scion,
Lindisfarne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.