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 Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Amon Düül to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dead Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Victims,
Sugar Minott,
Symarip,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brick,
Anthony Braxton,
Sparks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Depeche Mode,
The Monks,
Hashim,
Gang Green,
Porter Ricks,
World's Most,
Moebius,
Von Mondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABBA,
The Monochrome Set,
The Barracudas,
The Blackbyrds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
John Coltrane,
Accadde A,
Theoretical Girls,
Severed Heads,
Smog,
Visage,
Royal Trux,
Interpol,
The Mummies,
Shoche,
The Slackers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eden Ahbez,
Stereo Dub,
Radio Birdman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bill Wells,
Bronski Beat,
Sam Rivers,
The Fuzztones,
Youth Brigade,
Television,
Eddi Front,
Mission of Burma,
Outsiders,
Audionom,
The Zeros,
Crime,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Lydon,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.