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 Ireland and from Halifax.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 The Slackers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
One Last Wish,
Cheater Slicks,
The Count Five,
Motorama,
Symarip,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Vogues,
The Cowsills,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amazonics,
The Remains,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
KRS-One,
ABC,
Skriet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Pretty Things,
Lalo Schifrin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Trumans Water,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stiv Bators,
Clear Light,
Depeche Mode,
The Mummies,
Charles Mingus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Donny Hathaway,
The Seeds,
Soft Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Kenny Larkin,
Fugazi,
Nick Fraelich,
Interpol,
CMW,
Joe Smooth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Leonard Cohen,
Agent Orange,
World's Most,
Pussy Galore,
Black Pus,
the Germs,
Erasure,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Reed,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tommy Roe,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Foxx,
Michelle Simonal,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kaleidoscope,
The Blues Magoos,
Ken Boothe,
The Moody Blues,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.