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 Mauritania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Tommy Roe 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeff Lynne,
Kool Moe Dee,
Animal Collective,
Faust,
The Black Dice,
Andrew Hill,
Kerri Chandler,
Nik Kershaw,
The Martian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Pus,
Eric Dolphy,
Buzzcocks,
Oblivians,
Alphaville,
Bill Near,
Porter Ricks,
Sun Ra,
Arcadia,
Steve Hackett,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gong,
The Fugs,
The Litter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nirvana,
This Heat,
Essential Logic,
The Angels of Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angry Samoans,
Malaria!,
Sällskapet,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cheater Slicks,
Arab on Radar,
Surgeon,
Interpol,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slave,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crooked Eye,
Barry Ungar,
Motorama,
Aloha Tigers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Section 25,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cybotron,
Ultra Naté,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
The Cowsills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.