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 Equatorial Guinea and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
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 mellotron 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 Tubeway Army to the dance 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
The Real Kids,
Arab on Radar,
New Order,
Tommy Roe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Bowie,
Minnie Riperton,
Ten City,
The Names,
Youth Brigade,
Derrick May,
The Dirtbombs,
Terry Callier,
Reagan Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Circle Jerks,
Saccharine Trust,
Dawn Penn,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Barracudas,
U.S. Maple,
X-102,
Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quando Quango,
Ultra Naté,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joyce Sims,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Massinfluence,
Fugazi,
The Doors,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nirvana,
Eve St. Jones,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dark Day,
Crash Course in Science,
Lungfish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deakin,
Jeff Lynne,
Bush Tetras,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
The Golliwogs,
DNA,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Remains,
Maleditus Sound,
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
Bootsy Collins,
Tres Demented,
John Coltrane,
The Move,
Darondo,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.