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 the UAE and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Walker Brothers to the crunk 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mo-Dettes,
Godley & Creme,
PIL,
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
Scan 7,
The Fire Engines,
Sällskapet,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Siglo XX,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marvin Gaye,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fuzztones,
Trumans Water,
Dawn Penn,
Buzzcocks,
Ronan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Sherman,
The Offenders,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Star Department,
KRS-One,
Jeff Lynne,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Flag,
the Association,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Velvet Underground,
Roy Ayers,
Spoonie Gee,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Khruangbin,
Nas,
Ludus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure,
Boredoms,
X-102,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shuggie Otis,
The Moleskins,
Wolf Eyes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ice-T,
Von Mondo,
The Last Poets,
Sixth Finger,
Nik Kershaw,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Ossler,
Amon Düül,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lower 48,
Suicide,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.