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 Cape Verde and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Stockholm.
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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 New Order to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Warsaw,
Ultravox,
Deakin,
Matthew Halsall,
Soft Cell,
Eli Mardock,
Quantec,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Lynne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sight & Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Jandek,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kas Product,
Marmalade,
Reagan Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
The Index,
The Fire Engines,
Lightning Bolt,
The Litter,
Pylon,
The Saints,
Wally Richardson,
China Crisis,
Khruangbin,
The Searchers,
Sandy B,
Brass Construction,
L. Decosne,
Marc Almond,
ABC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cowsills,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Sarah Menescal,
DNA,
The Count Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Busters,
Aloha Tigers,
Bronski Beat,
The Residents,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Todd Terry,
These Immortal Souls,
Whodini,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fortunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q65,
Audionom,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Subhumans,
Marine Girls,
the Swans,
Morten Harket,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.