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 Togo and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jacob Miller 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Walker Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ituana,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Sällskapet,
The Index,
Marcia Griffiths,
Faust,
Sonic Youth,
The Misunderstood,
R.M.O.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Theoretical Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
Althea and Donna,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stockholm Monsters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Urselle,
Pylon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lindisfarne,
Spoonie Gee,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hashim,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jacob Miller,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reagan Youth,
The Stooges,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eve St. Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Flipper,
Mandrill,
Television Personalities,
New York Dolls,
Basic Channel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minny Pops,
Infiniti,
Bronski Beat,
DNA,
Avey Tare,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eden Ahbez,
Buzzcocks,
Newcleus,
The Offenders,
Tubeway Army,
Clear Light,
Outsiders,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.