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 Micronesia 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mad Mike to the disco 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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Quadrant,
Heaven 17,
Royal Trux,
Supertramp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eddi Front,
Spandau Ballet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pussy Galore,
Swell Maps,
A Certain Ratio,
Agent Orange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Teasers,
The Cowsills,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
Fugazi,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Bar-Kays,
Pierre Henry,
Dual Sessions,
Mandrill,
Shoche,
MDC,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Technova,
The Invisible,
Y Pants,
Sparks,
Rufus Thomas,
Pantaleimon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dawn Penn,
The Evens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Q and Not U,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
David McCallum,
Derrick Morgan,
In Retrospect,
Public Enemy,
Cal Tjader,
Aloha Tigers,
Television,
Monolake,
Parry Music,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maurizio,
Reuben Wilson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Hill,
Todd Rundgren,
Zero Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Bronski Beat,
Alton Ellis,
Radiohead,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.