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 Pakistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yaz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kas Product,
Black Pus,
Matthew Halsall,
The Slackers,
Quando Quango,
The Litter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Terry,
The Seeds,
The Wake,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun Ra,
Amon Düül II,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Ludus,
Massinfluence,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sound Behaviour,
Echospace,
Althea and Donna,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
New York Dolls,
Fat Boys,
Moby Grape,
Davy DMX,
the Bar-Kays,
Magma,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
Pylon,
Brand Nubian,
Camouflage,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
Lungfish,
F. McDonald,
Lucky Dragons,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Von Mondo,
Albert Ayler,
The Dirtbombs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Popol Vuh,
Minny Pops,
Ponytail,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Young Rascals,
The Walker Brothers,
Suicide,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.