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 Solomon Islands and from Johannesburg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fall to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Robert Görl,
Scrapy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Charles Mingus,
Youth Brigade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Groovy Waters,
EPMD,
Neu!,
The Red Krayola,
Harry Pussy,
the Slits,
Marine Girls,
Silicon Teens,
Albert Ayler,
Jandek,
Dennis Brown,
Althea and Donna,
Public Image Ltd.,
Matthew Halsall,
The Dave Clark Five,
Alton Ellis,
John Cale,
Blossom Toes,
Aural Exciters,
The Velvet Underground,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Christie,
Ludus,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
OOIOO,
The Moleskins,
Minnie Riperton,
Kas Product,
These Immortal Souls,
Smog,
Suburban Knight,
The Move,
Brothers Johnson,
The Zeros,
This Heat,
June of 44,
Glenn Branca,
Rites of Spring,
Robert Hood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Qualms,
Bronski Beat,
Hoover,
Sandy B,
Ossler,
Procol Harum,
Spandau Ballet,
The Blackbyrds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wolf Eyes,
The Index,
The Angels of Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.