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 Netherlands and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba 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 Grass Roots to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Youth Brigade,
Faust,
The Smiths,
Neu!,
Dead Boys,
Al Stewart,
The Durutti Column,
the Soft Cell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Raincoats,
New Age Steppers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Los Fastidios,
Johnny Clarke,
Groovy Waters,
Stereo Dub,
Inner City,
Piero Umiliani,
The Names,
The Offenders,
Maleditus Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Index,
Susan Cadogan,
The Beau Brummels,
The Remains,
Skriet,
Qualms,
Barry Ungar,
Wire,
Blancmange,
Gichy Dan,
Surgeon,
The Selecter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ultravox,
Crash Course in Science,
the Swans,
the Sonics,
The Doors,
Pharoah Sanders,
JFA,
Bad Manners,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Tubeway Army,
Aswad,
Underground Resistance,
The Gories,
Toni Rubio,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed,
Tomorrow,
The Count Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pylon,
Yaz,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.