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 Latvia and from London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Sound to the rock 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skriet,
Lou Christie,
Mandrill,
Scion,
The Slackers,
Ornette Coleman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed,
Procol Harum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oneida,
Minny Pops,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Monochrome Set,
Aural Exciters,
Easy Going,
Sound Behaviour,
Tom Boy,
Nas,
Davy DMX,
Nik Kershaw,
Sun City Girls,
The Gun Club,
The Grass Roots,
Piero Umiliani,
Model 500,
The Zeros,
Japan,
Sexual Harrassment,
LL Cool J,
Babytalk,
Tears for Fears,
Charles Mingus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Throbbing Gristle,
Drexciya,
John Coltrane,
Jandek,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker,
Groovy Waters,
Wings,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ohio Players,
Soft Cell,
John Lydon,
Bob Dylan,
The Smoke,
The Monks,
Lindisfarne,
Bill Near,
Andrew Hill,
Simply Red,
Brand Nubian,
Ultra Naté,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.