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 Jamaica and from Hong Kong.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Bauhaus to the punk 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Eurythmics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crooked Eye,
Rapeman,
Patti Smith,
The Monks,
Delta 5,
Lebanon Hanover,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Vogues,
Minny Pops,
Theoretical Girls,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
Basic Channel,
the Normal,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
Country Teasers,
Dennis Brown,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
10cc,
The J.B.'s,
The Selecter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lucky Dragons,
Masters at Work,
The Grass Roots,
Deadbeat,
The Litter,
The Human League,
Nation of Ulysses,
Inner City,
The Names,
Pantytec,
Arcadia,
Lightning Bolt,
ABC,
Blake Baxter,
Flipper,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pagans,
Talk Talk,
Television Personalities,
Cameo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Simply Red,
Warsaw,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swans,
Arthur Verocai,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Steve Hackett,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.