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 Sudan and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Smoke to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Beau Brummels,
New Order,
Todd Rundgren,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gun Club,
Blossom Toes,
The Victims,
ABBA,
Matthew Halsall,
Amon Düül,
Fela Kuti,
Fad Gadget,
Trumans Water,
Kaleidoscope,
Bad Manners,
Soulsonic Force,
Toni Rubio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mr. Review,
Albert Ayler,
Aswad,
Al Stewart,
the Normal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Slick Rick,
Althea and Donna,
Susan Cadogan,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mummies,
Jerry's Kids,
Angry Samoans,
The Seeds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joensuu 1685,
Icehouse,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Blues Magoos,
Wally Richardson,
Liliput,
Pulsallama,
Nico,
Can,
Pantytec,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tomorrow,
The Velvet Underground,
The American Breed,
E-Dancer,
the Slits,
The Buckinghams,
Blancmange,
The Star Department,
Guru Guru,
Robert Görl,
Procol Harum,
Outsiders,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.