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 Czech Republic and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 Bush Tetras to the dance 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Television Personalities,
Absolute Body Control,
Mo-Dettes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül II,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marmalade,
Soulsonic Force,
Quando Quango,
The Real Kids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stiv Bators,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Hill,
Procol Harum,
Terry Callier,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Moon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Selecter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Neil Young,
Infiniti,
Dead Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ice-T,
Whodini,
China Crisis,
Royal Trux,
Gang of Four,
Unwound,
Swans,
Roxette,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Stetsasonic,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Starr,
The Names,
Panda Bear,
Second Layer,
Idris Muhammad,
Janne Schatter,
Faust,
Hoover,
Khruangbin,
Anakelly,
Bauhaus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sam Rivers,
Niagra,
Iggy Pop,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
K-Klass,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.