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 Germany and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Heaven 17 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Ossler,
Letta Mbulu,
The Durutti Column,
Dark Day,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultra Naté,
Steve Hackett,
Mandrill,
The Last Poets,
Oneida,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Zeros,
Barbara Tucker,
DJ Sneak,
Brand Nubian,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fall,
Second Layer,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Motorama,
Camouflage,
Colin Newman,
Lower 48,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Black Sheep,
Youth Brigade,
Laurel Aitken,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
cv313,
Bill Near,
K-Klass,
Ohio Players,
Tears for Fears,
Rod Modell,
The Index,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soul II Soul,
Liliput,
OOIOO,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Y Pants,
The Names,
Zero Boys,
Eurythmics,
Lindisfarne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Germs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neil Young,
Yaz,
Radio Birdman,
Nirvana,
Audionom,
Bronski Beat,
the Association,
The Invisible,
Underground Resistance,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.