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 Ecuador and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Absolute Body Control to the techno 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-102,
Godley & Creme,
Gerry Rafferty,
Silicon Teens,
Todd Rundgren,
Bob Dylan,
June of 44,
Easy Going,
James White and The Blacks,
Aural Exciters,
Au Pairs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Guru Guru,
8 Eyed Spy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alice Coltrane,
Pylon,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cure,
Scientists,
The Buckinghams,
The Gladiators,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sister Nancy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barbara Tucker,
Brick,
The Slackers,
Dave Gahan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tears for Fears,
The Young Rascals,
Matthew Bourne,
Letta Mbulu,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gun Club,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Five Americans,
Wally Richardson,
John Foxx,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
kango's stein massive,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kayak,
The J.B.'s,
Cluster,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultra Naté,
The Durutti Column,
Ten City,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Saints,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.