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 Morocco and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer 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 H. Thieme to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
The Busters,
Marc Almond,
The Saints,
June Days,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joy Division,
Mantronix,
Roxy Music,
Idris Muhammad,
Max Romeo,
Loose Ends,
Girls At Our Best!,
These Immortal Souls,
Vladislav Delay,
The Smoke,
Little Man,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Supertramp,
Bush Tetras,
Cameo,
Sex Pistols,
The Red Krayola,
Iggy Pop,
Mo-Dettes,
Delta 5,
Motorama,
Rotary Connection,
Angry Samoans,
Quantec,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Hill,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skaos,
Glenn Branca,
Animal Collective,
Oneida,
Gichy Dan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Sonics,
The Dave Clark Five,
10cc,
a-ha,
Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
Qualms,
48th St. Collective,
Dark Day,
Mandrill,
Duran Duran,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Blackbyrds,
Tears for Fears,
The Durutti Column,
Malaria!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Todd Terry,
The Gap Band,
The Grass Roots,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.