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 Albania and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nick Fraelich to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Halsall,
Fat Boys,
Hoover,
Crooked Eye,
kango's stein massive,
Scrapy,
Goldenarms,
Soft Cell,
The Searchers,
the Germs,
The Offenders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rites of Spring,
The Names,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jandek,
James White and The Blacks,
The Techniques,
Don Cherry,
The Fugs,
Sixth Finger,
Clear Light,
Thee Headcoats,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
Fad Gadget,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Remains,
Danielle Patucci,
Dual Sessions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Parry Music,
The Seeds,
The Human League,
Ultra Naté,
Ken Boothe,
In Retrospect,
Toni Rubio,
Spoonie Gee,
Lucky Dragons,
Technova,
Accadde A,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sällskapet,
The Moleskins,
The Sound,
Althea and Donna,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Skriet,
Steve Hackett,
The Beau Brummels,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roger Hodgson,
T. Rex,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.