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 India and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Anthony Braxton to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Alphaville,
Minutemen,
Buzzcocks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The American Breed,
T. Rex,
Kool Moe Dee,
Boogie Down Productions,
Stetsasonic,
Roxy Music,
Grauzone,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Radiohead,
Darondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Althea and Donna,
Royal Trux,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Standells,
Cybotron,
Bobby Byrd,
Icehouse,
Vladislav Delay,
Whodini,
Pylon,
John Foxx,
Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Black Pus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Faraquet,
New Order,
Bill Wells,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
Bauhaus,
Lalann,
Girls At Our Best!,
Archie Shepp,
Sight & Sound,
Joy Division,
Sam Rivers,
Brand Nubian,
Sex Pistols,
Livin' Joy,
The Black Dice,
Spandau Ballet,
the Normal,
8 Eyed Spy,
Von Mondo,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Bourne,
Lyres,
Eli Mardock,
Skriet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sonic Youth,
Mantronix,
Wire,
The Invisible,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.