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 Dominica and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Vladislav Delay to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
This Heat,
Groovy Waters,
Sound Behaviour,
Marmalade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
David Bowie,
The Leaves,
Terry Callier,
Scott Walker,
The Human League,
KRS-One,
Yazoo,
Siglo XX,
The Cramps,
ABC,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monks,
Sarah Menescal,
Rufus Thomas,
Barry Ungar,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Starr,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Lynne,
Absolute Body Control,
Reuben Wilson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Count Five,
The Pretty Things,
The Wake,
Reagan Youth,
Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fortunes,
The Misunderstood,
Severed Heads,
The Residents,
La Düsseldorf,
Ornette Coleman,
Leonard Cohen,
Nik Kershaw,
Michelle Simonal,
Henry Cow,
Scion,
Ten City,
Man Parrish,
Isaac Hayes,
Stiv Bators,
T. Rex,
Marcia Griffiths,
MDC,
Alphaville,
Johnny Osbourne,
Colin Newman,
Arthur Verocai,
The Buckinghams,
Janne Schatter,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.