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 Netherlands and from Copenhagen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gang Gang Dance to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Pulsallama,
Urselle,
Mo-Dettes,
Rufus Thomas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Procol Harum,
CMW,
ABBA,
Flipper,
Soft Cell,
Little Man,
Sonic Youth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lebanon Hanover,
Skriet,
Iggy Pop,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Goldenarms,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shuggie Otis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Stiv Bators,
Visage,
The Monks,
Bronski Beat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Can,
Smog,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Foxx,
Lou Christie,
Kurtis Blow,
Anakelly,
Roxy Music,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fuzztones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Soft Cell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pussy Galore,
The Gun Club,
Saccharine Trust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cowsills,
Josef K,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
Suicide,
Yaz,
Howard Jones,
Sun City Girls,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.