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 Seychelles and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Agitation Free to the disco 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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 Divine Comedy,
The Smiths,
The Mojo Men,
Pierre Henry,
Al Stewart,
The Moleskins,
Fela Kuti,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Niagra,
Rod Modell,
Trumans Water,
ABBA,
Pagans,
The Star Department,
Buzzcocks,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Moon,
Mark Hollis,
Kas Product,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Smoke,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camouflage,
Letta Mbulu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bauhaus,
Roy Ayers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Birthday Party,
Wasted Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moebius,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Sonics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerri Chandler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Magma,
Lightning Bolt,
Pussy Galore,
Prince Buster,
Altered Images,
Von Mondo,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Trojans,
Boredoms,
Shoche,
Mission of Burma,
Second Layer,
The Evens,
Lou Reed,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spandau Ballet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minny Pops,
the Normal,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.