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 Chile and from Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Moody Blues to the grime 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Chris Corsano,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mandrill,
Bob Dylan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yazoo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roxette,
X-Ray Spex,
Dawn Penn,
Suicide,
Depeche Mode,
Liliput,
Man Parrish,
Qualms,
Rufus Thomas,
Cybotron,
The Martian,
Hasil Adkins,
K-Klass,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rod Modell,
Outsiders,
Monks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Charles Mingus,
Judy Mowatt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minutemen,
Bobby Sherman,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gladiators,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bad Manners,
Fela Kuti,
Joey Negro,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Half Japanese,
Hardrive,
Pussy Galore,
The Alarm Clocks,
Franke,
June Days,
Popol Vuh,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eric Dolphy,
Cymande,
LL Cool J,
Scion,
Shoche,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Warsaw,
Darondo,
Matthew Bourne,
The Move,
Althea and Donna,
Gang of Four,
a-ha,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.