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 Gambia and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Symarip to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb 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 oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
The Knickerbockers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Cale,
Zero Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
ABBA,
Pylon,
Porter Ricks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Carl Craig,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
Visage,
Ornette Coleman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lakeside,
Anakelly,
Ludus,
Bobby Womack,
the Slits,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soft Cell,
Boredoms,
The Black Dice,
Susan Cadogan,
Joe Smooth,
Minor Threat,
Camberwell Now,
The Wake,
Arab on Radar,
Adolescents,
Yellowson,
Faust,
The Music Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cowsills,
The Modern Lovers,
Clear Light,
The Smoke,
Neu!,
DNA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed,
Wally Richardson,
AZ,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tres Demented,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ituana,
Dual Sessions,
B.T. Express,
Arcadia,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Buckinghams,
a-ha,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.