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 Seychelles and from Delhi.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Man Eating Sloth to the grime 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Marshall Jefferson,
Erasure,
Darondo,
Brothers Johnson,
John Foxx,
Visage,
Archie Shepp,
Derrick May,
Donald Byrd,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Evens,
Joyce Sims,
The Barracudas,
The Golliwogs,
Popol Vuh,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxette,
Henry Cow,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
the Association,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hasil Adkins,
Y Pants,
Motorama,
Swell Maps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fortunes,
Ronan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bill Near,
Scan 7,
Harry Pussy,
Monks,
Organ,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Black Dice,
Marc Almond,
Audionom,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Adolescents,
The Tremeloes,
Grauzone,
The Doors,
Jawbox,
Gang of Four,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
China Crisis,
Ornette Coleman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Faraquet,
Wasted Youth,
Kaleidoscope,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ossler,
Parry Music,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.