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 Moldova and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 JFA to the disco 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Mandrill,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gap Band,
Patti Smith,
Y Pants,
Jacques Brel,
Derrick May,
Ponytail,
Sound Behaviour,
Agent Orange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wire,
Angry Samoans,
Judy Mowatt,
Bluetip,
Model 500,
Porter Ricks,
The Dead C,
Toni Rubio,
The Beau Brummels,
Dave Gahan,
Dead Boys,
Unwound,
Laurel Aitken,
Excepter,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
The Remains,
Andrew Hill,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Residents,
Radio Birdman,
The Monks,
The Barracudas,
Bill Wells,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Q and Not U,
Joyce Sims,
The Human League,
the Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
48th St. Collective,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
Rotary Connection,
Animal Collective,
Pere Ubu,
Idris Muhammad,
Average White Band,
Morten Harket,
Radiohead,
Vladislav Delay,
The Grass Roots,
The Count Five,
John Foxx,
The Moody Blues,
Kayak,
Michelle Simonal,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.