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 Morocco and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
The Real Kids,
Q65,
Colin Newman,
The United States of America,
Panda Bear,
Soft Machine,
X-102,
The New Christs,
John Cale,
Visage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faraquet,
Barrington Levy,
Rites of Spring,
Scrapy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kerri Chandler,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Saccharine Trust,
A Certain Ratio,
Hardrive,
Tres Demented,
T.S.O.L.,
Sixth Finger,
Main Source,
Flipper,
Warren Ellis,
Quantec,
The J.B.'s,
Warsaw,
ABBA,
Roxette,
Dark Day,
F. McDonald,
The Angels of Light,
Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Deadbeat,
Q and Not U,
Wolf Eyes,
Stiv Bators,
Howard Jones,
Aswad,
Maurizio,
a-ha,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Hood,
Grey Daturas,
Fugazi,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fall,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Simply Red,
Yaz,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.