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 Turkmenistan and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Standells to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
New York Dolls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joyce Sims,
Wolf Eyes,
Masters at Work,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Shuggie Otis,
Gabor Szabo,
The Star Department,
The Motions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Radiohead,
X-Ray Spex,
Hardrive,
The Pop Group,
Frankie Knuckles,
Neu!,
Marmalade,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Lydon,
Godley & Creme,
Piero Umiliani,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
The Searchers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bob Dylan,
Sister Nancy,
Kerri Chandler,
Yaz,
Groovy Waters,
Fluxion,
The Fall,
CMW,
UT,
Black Flag,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxette,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Steve Hackett,
Hasil Adkins,
Ice-T,
La Düsseldorf,
The Cowsills,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yazoo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric Copeland,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Index,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
Livin' Joy,
Altered Images,
The Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.