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 Philippines and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fad Gadget to the dance 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus 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 electroclash 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Howard Jones,
Black Bananas,
Eric Copeland,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sex Pistols,
Young Marble Giants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Amazonics,
Q and Not U,
Wolf Eyes,
The Invisible,
David Bowie,
Boz Scaggs,
The Evens,
Loose Ends,
Terry Callier,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
KRS-One,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scrapy,
Rosa Yemen,
The Busters,
Matthew Bourne,
Hashim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sonics,
Bill Near,
Fluxion,
Bootsy Collins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blossom Toes,
Sister Nancy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swans,
Ultra Naté,
H. Thieme,
The Happenings,
Silicon Teens,
Rhythm & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boredoms,
The Cramps,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Angry Samoans,
Sam Rivers,
Zapp,
Sound Behaviour,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Depeche Mode,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.