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 Fiji and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Saints to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Piero Umiliani,
Scan 7,
Chrome,
K-Klass,
Graham Central Station,
Altered Images,
the Soft Cell,
Ronnie Foster,
Pulsallama,
Aural Exciters,
Bush Tetras,
Gong,
B.T. Express,
Hardrive,
The Barracudas,
The Fuzztones,
Pere Ubu,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Style,
Dave Gahan,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Lynne,
PIL,
Ken Boothe,
Deakin,
Hashim,
A Certain Ratio,
Intrusion,
The Smiths,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cymande,
The Pretty Things,
Jacques Brel,
Roxette,
The Doors,
Bob Dylan,
Crooked Eye,
The Selecter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
Masters at Work,
the Sonics,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fugazi,
The Durutti Column,
Eric Dolphy,
Todd Rundgren,
Animal Collective,
Procol Harum,
Yellowson,
Swans,
Mark Hollis,
Pylon,
The J.B.'s,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.