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 Iceland and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 Girls At Our Best! to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Camouflage,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smiths,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Rundgren,
The Knickerbockers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siglo XX,
Dave Gahan,
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
World's Most,
Wire,
Eric B and Rakim,
David McCallum,
Scratch Acid,
Danielle Patucci,
Television,
Rod Modell,
Henry Cow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Faust,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Khruangbin,
Man Parrish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tears for Fears,
The Red Krayola,
Fela Kuti,
Arab on Radar,
Schoolly D,
Royal Trux,
The Pop Group,
Tres Demented,
Jandek,
The Last Poets,
Sight & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Index,
Ultra Naté,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pantaleimon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Audionom,
The Grass Roots,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skriet,
Prince Buster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cowsills,
Make Up,
Gang Starr,
Minutemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wally Richardson,
Alison Limerick,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.