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 Oman and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare 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 The Durutti Column to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Maurizio,
Flash Fearless,
Pagans,
Donald Byrd,
Agitation Free,
Moby Grape,
the Normal,
The Gladiators,
Warsaw,
Eden Ahbez,
DNA,
Royal Trux,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Doors,
Talk Talk,
Hasil Adkins,
Lucky Dragons,
The Toasters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Soft Cell,
Ten City,
The Cosmic Jokers,
June of 44,
The Selecter,
The Five Americans,
Ken Boothe,
Drexciya,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Sneak,
F. McDonald,
The Vogues,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pulsallama,
the Swans,
Robert Hood,
Spoonie Gee,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ludus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roy Ayers,
The Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Peter and Kerry,
Cybotron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Womack,
Metal Thangz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cecil Taylor,
Soft Machine,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Schoolly D,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.