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 the UAE and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Soft Machine,
Quadrant,
Pet Shop Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Black Moon,
The Zeros,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roxette,
Tomorrow,
Stockholm Monsters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Davy DMX,
Franke,
Eve St. Jones,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aloha Tigers,
Mars,
Anakelly,
The Star Department,
Ossler,
The Birthday Party,
DJ Sneak,
The Vogues,
Mark Hollis,
The Fall,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Almond,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Searchers,
Youth Brigade,
AZ,
Bobby Byrd,
The Dirtbombs,
Tres Demented,
T. Rex,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Association,
The American Breed,
Cameo,
Marmalade,
Sugar Minott,
Slave,
Zapp,
Mantronix,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
Pussy Galore,
John Foxx,
The Seeds,
Lebanon Hanover,
Thompson Twins,
David Axelrod,
Ultravox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crime,
The Trojans,
Urselle,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nik Kershaw,
Alphaville,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.