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 Haiti and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 The United States of America to the grime 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
The Martian,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dead C,
Bush Tetras,
Lyres,
The Monochrome Set,
The Names,
Subhumans,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Starr,
Boz Scaggs,
Cal Tjader,
Al Stewart,
The Slackers,
Bobby Sherman,
Marc Almond,
Bauhaus,
Gang Green,
Yaz,
The Moleskins,
Roger Hodgson,
Ponytail,
Sugar Minott,
La Düsseldorf,
Sixth Finger,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Slick Rick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
T. Rex,
Todd Terry,
Wings,
Q and Not U,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Womack,
FM Einheit,
Lee Hazlewood,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Godley & Creme,
Eurythmics,
The Fugs,
Fatback Band,
Bluetip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Bar-Kays,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eli Mardock,
X-101,
The Zeros,
Stiv Bators,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Reagan Youth,
Symarip,
Quantec,
James White and The Blacks,
Harmonia,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mark Hollis,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.