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 Belgium and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 X-102 to the dance 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Mandrill,
LL Cool J,
Thee Headcoats,
David McCallum,
New Age Steppers,
Kool Moe Dee,
New Order,
Cymande,
Newcleus,
Loose Ends,
Mad Mike,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fela Kuti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Shoche,
Junior Murvin,
The Electric Prunes,
The Trojans,
Connie Case,
Organ,
Vladislav Delay,
Mission of Burma,
DJ Style,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Bananas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nik Kershaw,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Absolute Body Control,
Au Pairs,
X-101,
World's Most,
The Wake,
Cameo,
Theoretical Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Moebius,
Bush Tetras,
Ken Boothe,
Jeff Lynne,
Popol Vuh,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dead C,
Max Romeo,
Ultra Naté,
Ronnie Foster,
The Modern Lovers,
Boz Scaggs,
K-Klass,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
Underground Resistance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Desert Stars,
Radiohead,
Half Japanese,
The Misunderstood,
The Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Coltrane,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.