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 Mauritania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ 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 The Durutti Column to the dance 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Ornette Coleman,
The Alarm Clocks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Blues Magoos,
Monks,
Faust,
Ronan,
The Doors,
Crime,
Amon Düül,
Stiv Bators,
The Fall,
Joyce Sims,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
Scientists,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Khruangbin,
Derrick Morgan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eli Mardock,
Yellowson,
Organ,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
PIL,
Das Ding,
Drexciya,
Juan Atkins,
the Human League,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Outsiders,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Five Americans,
Ice-T,
The Selecter,
Aaron Thompson,
Scott Walker,
Motorama,
Visage,
Ponytail,
The American Breed,
The Zeros,
Nik Kershaw,
Grauzone,
Nirvana,
Rekid,
The Smoke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
MC5,
Iggy Pop,
Spoonie Gee,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ohio Players,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Josef K,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.