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 Senegal and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Suicide to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tommy Roe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Howard Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sällskapet,
Yusef Lateef,
Bill Wells,
The Angels of Light,
The Residents,
Lungfish,
Black Pus,
Darondo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Make Up,
The Evens,
Althea and Donna,
The New Christs,
Dennis Brown,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Monochrome Set,
Lakeside,
Arcadia,
CMW,
Archie Shepp,
Cal Tjader,
Sound Behaviour,
Index,
Ken Boothe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Surgeon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Zapp,
R.M.O.,
Altered Images,
John Foxx,
Porter Ricks,
The Gap Band,
Alison Limerick,
Marmalade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Niagra,
the Human League,
Mad Mike,
Angry Samoans,
Max Romeo,
Can,
The Leaves,
Rites of Spring,
Interpol,
Johnny Osbourne,
Maurizio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Piero Umiliani,
Donny Hathaway,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.