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 Albania 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 The Divine Comedy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fat Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rapeman,
Infiniti,
Mandrill,
Nas,
The Fuzztones,
AZ,
Ten City,
EPMD,
Faust,
The Velvet Underground,
Amon Düül II,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Zapp,
Urselle,
Ronan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gladiators,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cure,
The Knickerbockers,
Rufus Thomas,
DJ Style,
The Happenings,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Birthday Party,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Can,
the Germs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ludus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hoover,
Subhumans,
Monks,
The Residents,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flipper,
Das Ding,
Minny Pops,
Surgeon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Intrusion,
Little Man,
The Selecter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Piero Umiliani,
The Slits,
Terrestrial Tones,
Junior Murvin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Charles Mingus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.