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 Ethiopia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Max Romeo to the grime 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Rufus Thomas,
Pere Ubu,
Grey Daturas,
The Durutti Column,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radiohead,
Harry Pussy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bronski Beat,
The Litter,
Ohio Players,
Wire,
The Beau Brummels,
Scrapy,
Clear Light,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sandy B,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lyres,
Urselle,
John Foxx,
Scion,
Soft Cell,
the Fania All-Stars,
a-ha,
Joyce Sims,
The American Breed,
Jacques Brel,
Quantec,
Chris & Cosey,
Todd Rundgren,
Flipper,
48th St. Collective,
Albert Ayler,
The Dirtbombs,
Cal Tjader,
The Pop Group,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Flag,
The Leaves,
This Heat,
The Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Sonics,
Gabor Szabo,
Eddi Front,
The Smiths,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sister Nancy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Monolake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
La Düsseldorf,
The Real Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dave Gahan,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.