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 San Marino and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nik Kershaw to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Thompson Twins,
Funky Four + One,
Kaleidoscope,
Quando Quango,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare,
Lakeside,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Intrusion,
The Saints,
Metal Thangz,
Warren Ellis,
Goldenarms,
In Retrospect,
June Days,
Henry Cow,
Black Moon,
Anakelly,
Piero Umiliani,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Newcleus,
Excepter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brand Nubian,
Ten City,
Swell Maps,
John Lydon,
The Angels of Light,
The Invisible,
Kenny Larkin,
Sex Pistols,
The Cowsills,
The Smiths,
Suicide,
Eurythmics,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Barracudas,
Wasted Youth,
Fear,
John Holt,
B.T. Express,
Eli Mardock,
New Order,
L. Decosne,
Outsiders,
Monolake,
the Association,
The Raincoats,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
Visage,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Agitation Free,
The Zeros,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.