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 Turkmenistan and from Taipei.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Desert Stars to the punk 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Vainqueur,
The Mummies,
Ken Boothe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeff Lynne,
Spandau Ballet,
Yazoo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cymande,
Urselle,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Shuggie Otis,
DNA,
MDC,
The Divine Comedy,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Vogues,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brothers Johnson,
Wasted Youth,
This Heat,
Crash Course in Science,
The Victims,
Zero Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Byron Stingily,
Fort Wilson Riot,
June Days,
Radiohead,
June of 44,
Absolute Body Control,
Adolescents,
Smog,
Qualms,
Basic Channel,
Kenny Larkin,
D'Angelo,
Trumans Water,
Joe Finger,
Sugar Minott,
Average White Band,
Ornette Coleman,
These Immortal Souls,
Von Mondo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Au Pairs,
The Mojo Men,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spoonie Gee,
ABBA,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.