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 Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Schoolly D,
Glenn Branca,
Mission of Burma,
The Five Americans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Absolute Body Control,
Marcia Griffiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roxette,
Talk Talk,
Leonard Cohen,
Scrapy,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Terry,
The Pop Group,
Bronski Beat,
Marc Almond,
The Gladiators,
Boz Scaggs,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cramps,
Dawn Penn,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rufus Thomas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Barracudas,
Aural Exciters,
Youth Brigade,
Desert Stars,
Kayak,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Patti Smith,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Darondo,
Popol Vuh,
Lakeside,
T.S.O.L.,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Christie,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ice-T,
B.T. Express,
The Index,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hasil Adkins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
Brass Construction,
Pierre Henry,
a-ha,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
Royal Trux,
Subhumans,
Pussy Galore,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.