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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Prince Buster,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
Pylon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Associates,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marc Almond,
Absolute Body Control,
Bootsy Collins,
Radiohead,
Niagra,
Tim Buckley,
a-ha,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Metal Thangz,
The Victims,
Lower 48,
U.S. Maple,
The Monochrome Set,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Television,
Silicon Teens,
Donny Hathaway,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tears for Fears,
The Remains,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
Babytalk,
The Blackbyrds,
Scion,
Motorama,
T. Rex,
Scratch Acid,
Nico,
Au Pairs,
Alton Ellis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Agitation Free,
Reuben Wilson,
Erasure,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
Pussy Galore,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cramps,
Brand Nubian,
Sugar Minott,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ornette Coleman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wings,
Pole,
Bill Wells,
Junior Murvin,
Altered Images,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Freddie Wadling,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.