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 India and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bush Tetras to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
the Fania All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Stereo Dub,
New York Dolls,
Kenny Larkin,
Cymande,
Gichy Dan,
Roxette,
World's Most,
OOIOO,
Arthur Verocai,
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe,
Lakeside,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Blues Magoos,
The Raincoats,
Marvin Gaye,
Junior Murvin,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
Susan Cadogan,
Neu!,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deepchord,
Johnny Clarke,
Bronski Beat,
Leonard Cohen,
Fugazi,
Clear Light,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Monks,
The Residents,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Silicon Teens,
ABC,
Nirvana,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rapeman,
The Litter,
Brick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Toni Rubio,
Nik Kershaw,
PIL,
the Association,
Nick Fraelich,
Reagan Youth,
Interpol,
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Real Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yellowson,
Bauhaus,
Model 500,
David Bowie,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.