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 Bulgaria and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Porter Ricks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Ituana,
Aswad,
Deepchord,
Alphaville,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Can,
Niagra,
The Pretty Things,
Rites of Spring,
E-Dancer,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Khruangbin,
Black Sheep,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
China Crisis,
Sound Behaviour,
Juan Atkins,
Marc Almond,
The Martian,
Amazonics,
a-ha,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultravox,
Quadrant,
Supertramp,
PIL,
Bronski Beat,
Man Parrish,
Black Bananas,
Saccharine Trust,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
MDC,
Josef K,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül,
The Remains,
Alison Limerick,
The Cure,
Donny Hathaway,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
Stereo Dub,
Tim Buckley,
Andrew Hill,
the Association,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pole,
Barclay James Harvest,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Tremeloes,
Warsaw,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minny Pops,
The United States of America,
Aaron Thompson,
Bluetip,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.