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 South Africa and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Parry Music to the disco 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat 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?
Dawn Penn,
Deepchord,
Joe Smooth,
Nirvana,
Harry Pussy,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
Man Parrish,
The Trojans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Massinfluence,
Mad Mike,
Amazonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fat Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Dolphy,
The Barracudas,
Derrick May,
Brand Nubian,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lucky Dragons,
Soul II Soul,
Dorothy Ashby,
Godley & Creme,
Guru Guru,
T. Rex,
Slick Rick,
Leonard Cohen,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gladiators,
Sister Nancy,
Thee Headcoats,
The Associates,
Connie Case,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fugs,
Blake Baxter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Desert Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bronski Beat,
The Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stereo Dub,
Los Fastidios,
Bizarre Inc.,
Index,
The Searchers,
Matthew Bourne,
Flash Fearless,
The Offenders,
The Names,
This Heat,
Organ,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.