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 Afghanistan and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 X-Ray Spex to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Scion,
Althea and Donna,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
Q and Not U,
Lindisfarne,
Lalo Schifrin,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Television Personalities,
Wasted Youth,
Letta Mbulu,
Minnie Riperton,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tommy Roe,
The Mojo Men,
Echospace,
The Monochrome Set,
The Walker Brothers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sound Behaviour,
Maurizio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Adolescents,
Sugar Minott,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Searchers,
Hashim,
Judy Mowatt,
Inner City,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges,
The Slackers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Intrusion,
Aswad,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Juan Atkins,
The Happenings,
Sarah Menescal,
Quantec,
Bobby Byrd,
Subhumans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Accadde A,
Neil Young,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers,
Public Enemy,
Terry Callier,
Severed Heads,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang of Four,
Nik Kershaw,
Jawbox,
New Order,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.