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 Georgia and from Johannesburg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Shuggie Otis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Inner City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minor Threat,
Donald Byrd,
Archie Shepp,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fortunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sparks,
Radiohead,
Bang On A Can,
Aloha Tigers,
The Seeds,
Lou Reed,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harry Pussy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Vogues,
Vladislav Delay,
Shoche,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Clear Light,
Carl Craig,
Slick Rick,
The Barracudas,
Outsiders,
Scan 7,
Little Man,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Happenings,
Boredoms,
Tim Buckley,
Ultra Naté,
The Martian,
Dawn Penn,
Zapp,
Quando Quango,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sarah Menescal,
Can,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Move,
Panda Bear,
The Zeros,
The Cure,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cramps,
Excepter,
Roxette,
F. McDonald,
Rekid,
Fela Kuti,
Charles Mingus,
Urselle,
Peter & Gordon,
the Soft Cell,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.