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 Yemen and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Steve Hackett to the jazz 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
R.M.O.,
Arcadia,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fat Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Banda Bassotti,
DNA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marvin Gaye,
The Misunderstood,
Swans,
Clear Light,
Ten City,
Rotary Connection,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
Unwound,
Scott Walker,
The Evens,
Brothers Johnson,
The Standells,
Laurel Aitken,
Gerry Rafferty,
Morten Harket,
David Axelrod,
Rites of Spring,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Derrick Morgan,
ABC,
Q and Not U,
Absolute Body Control,
Stiv Bators,
The Slackers,
Pantytec,
The Vogues,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pulsallama,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wire,
Marc Almond,
kango's stein massive,
Black Sheep,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Seeds,
The Invisible,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joyce Sims,
The Divine Comedy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Residents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scrapy,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Visage,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.