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 Syria and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience to the techno 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw 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?
China Crisis,
Moss Icon,
Khruangbin,
Pantaleimon,
Goldenarms,
Prince Buster,
Mr. Review,
the Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Jerry's Kids,
Adolescents,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultra Naté,
DJ Style,
Aaron Thompson,
The Walker Brothers,
John Lydon,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Wake,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pagans,
48th St. Collective,
Skarface,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mantronix,
Scrapy,
Circle Jerks,
Los Fastidios,
Yaz,
Wings,
Bang On A Can,
FM Einheit,
Moby Grape,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monolake,
the Germs,
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Essential Logic,
the Bar-Kays,
Leonard Cohen,
Sound Behaviour,
Royal Trux,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Faust,
Hashim,
Ken Boothe,
Angry Samoans,
Bauhaus,
Symarip,
Susan Cadogan,
Visage,
The Slits,
Youth Brigade,
David Axelrod,
The Neon Judgement,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Roxy Music,
Japan,
Fad Gadget,
Althea and Donna,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.