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 Mongolia and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Loose Ends to the punk 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Cheater Slicks,
The United States of America,
The Cramps,
Mad Mike,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Reuben Wilson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
MDC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pylon,
Albert Ayler,
Mandrill,
Al Stewart,
Bill Near,
Infiniti,
The Last Poets,
Mary Jane Girls,
Aswad,
R.M.O.,
Yellowson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quantec,
World's Most,
The Kinks,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Style,
Lyres,
Theoretical Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Erykah Badu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Duran Duran,
Zero Boys,
Monolake,
X-101,
The Trojans,
Suicide,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cluster,
DJ Sneak,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Freddie Wadling,
Organ,
The Gladiators,
Technova,
Ludus,
Banda Bassotti,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
Pantaleimon,
Gong,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Heaven 17,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slave,
Erasure,
Jacques Brel,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Stetsasonic,
Easy Going,
The Searchers,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.