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 Samoa and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the techno 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
The Alarm Clocks,
Severed Heads,
Young Marble Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Q and Not U,
The Star Department,
Scion,
Electric Prunes,
Bill Wells,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lindisfarne,
The Victims,
Can,
Sonic Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Morten Harket,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stetsasonic,
Bush Tetras,
Barbara Tucker,
Radiopuhelimet,
Popol Vuh,
Ossler,
The Red Krayola,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Michelle Simonal,
Brick,
Sparks,
The Music Machine,
Toni Rubio,
UT,
The Fuzztones,
Audionom,
Metal Thangz,
Masters at Work,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fall,
ABC,
Animal Collective,
Isaac Hayes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Evens,
Guru Guru,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Livin' Joy,
Soft Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gories,
Icehouse,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Pretty Things,
Aswad,
Bobby Womack,
Pylon,
Fugazi,
Robert Hood,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.