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 Togo and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Columbus and Mumbai.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 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 Malaria! to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
The Neon Judgement,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Slits,
the Association,
Television Personalities,
Pole,
John Coltrane,
Essential Logic,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Cell,
The Birthday Party,
Judy Mowatt,
The Stooges,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fatback Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Siglo XX,
June Days,
Half Japanese,
The Evens,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
Scion,
Tom Boy,
Lungfish,
Pantytec,
Scientists,
Subhumans,
Country Teasers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kenny Larkin,
Cecil Taylor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
This Heat,
Connie Case,
Tommy Roe,
Reagan Youth,
the Slits,
Q65,
Glenn Branca,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lakeside,
Stiv Bators,
Negative Approach,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy Collins,
Anakelly,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Holt,
Sparks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Can,
James White and The Blacks,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.