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 Finland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb 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 Eve St. Jones to the crunk 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Joe Finger,
Franke,
Godley & Creme,
Dennis Brown,
Funky Four + One,
Judy Mowatt,
Wolf Eyes,
Andrew Hill,
Sällskapet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mars,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Cell,
X-102,
Minor Threat,
New York Dolls,
Shoche,
Lindisfarne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Black Dice,
Henry Cow,
Au Pairs,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
Simply Red,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oneida,
Procol Harum,
Depeche Mode,
Skarface,
Deadbeat,
Anthony Braxton,
Monolake,
Brothers Johnson,
The Zeros,
Swell Maps,
Rufus Thomas,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Green,
Vladislav Delay,
Parry Music,
The Velvet Underground,
The Grass Roots,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Christie,
Marmalade,
Whodini,
The Standells,
Man Eating Sloth,
UT,
Kerrie Biddell,
Arcadia,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rapeman,
The Last Poets,
Nirvana,
Half Japanese,
Heaven 17,
Chrome,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Selecter,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.