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 Kyrgyzstan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pop Group to the disco 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Blancmange,
The Angels of Light,
Rites of Spring,
Monolake,
Mantronix,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Das Ding,
The Kinks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Graham Central Station,
Soft Cell,
the Human League,
Dave Gahan,
Black Moon,
Charles Mingus,
Procol Harum,
Flash Fearless,
Eddi Front,
Rapeman,
The Knickerbockers,
Rod Modell,
Donald Byrd,
Boz Scaggs,
The Invisible,
Mad Mike,
Roger Hodgson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Subhumans,
Neu!,
John Lydon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bill Near,
Television Personalities,
Cymande,
The Star Department,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
The Saints,
Don Cherry,
Duran Duran,
The Martian,
Joy Division,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
Jerry's Kids,
H. Thieme,
Barbara Tucker,
The Electric Prunes,
The Velvet Underground,
T. Rex,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hashim,
Ken Boothe,
The Music Machine,
Robert Görl,
Sun Ra,
The Black Dice,
Bush Tetras,
Brothers Johnson,
Minor Threat,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.