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 Romania and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eli Mardock to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Malaria!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Byrd,
The Birthday Party,
Sixth Finger,
The Tremeloes,
Barbara Tucker,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Evens,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
DNA,
Al Stewart,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harpers Bizarre,
New York Dolls,
Scion,
The Slits,
John Coltrane,
Flipper,
Lou Christie,
B.T. Express,
Monks,
The Fire Engines,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Busters,
John Foxx,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Real Kids,
Aloha Tigers,
Sarah Menescal,
Technova,
Con Funk Shun,
The American Breed,
the Germs,
The Offenders,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fear,
Erykah Badu,
Nils Olav,
Chrome,
Boz Scaggs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pantytec,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arab on Radar,
Babytalk,
Country Teasers,
Wings,
Joey Negro,
Urselle,
MDC,
Ituana,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.