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 Tuvalu and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
B.T. Express,
Neu!,
The Walker Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Skaos,
Laurel Aitken,
Stetsasonic,
Aloha Tigers,
Mark Hollis,
Eurythmics,
Goldenarms,
Barbara Tucker,
Slave,
Technova,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
In Retrospect,
Byron Stingily,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Smooth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
LL Cool J,
The Kinks,
Magazine,
The Beau Brummels,
David Axelrod,
Black Pus,
Barry Ungar,
Ludus,
Smog,
Sonic Youth,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arthur Verocai,
Blossom Toes,
Lyres,
The Slits,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Starr,
Fluxion,
Hoover,
Tres Demented,
The Mummies,
Idris Muhammad,
Quando Quango,
Quantec,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Electric Prunes,
Don Cherry,
Depeche Mode,
Hardrive,
Lower 48,
Skarface,
The Seeds,
Essential Logic,
Joensuu 1685,
Howard Jones,
Soft Cell,
Severed Heads,
Junior Murvin,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.