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 Grenada and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Dennis Brown to the punk 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Interpol,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Electric Prunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Litter,
Average White Band,
Index,
The American Breed,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Susan Cadogan,
Livin' Joy,
June Days,
Delon & Dalcan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Panda Bear,
Charles Mingus,
the Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Big Daddy Kane,
CMW,
Glambeats Corp.,
Groovy Waters,
Adolescents,
Mr. Review,
Archie Shepp,
The Associates,
Roxy Music,
Sparks,
Niagra,
Sister Nancy,
Boredoms,
H. Thieme,
Ponytail,
Michelle Simonal,
K-Klass,
Wings,
Matthew Halsall,
Barbara Tucker,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Black Dice,
Lebanon Hanover,
Surgeon,
Quantec,
The Sound,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Monolake,
The Mojo Men,
Suicide,
Throbbing Gristle,
Agent Orange,
Joe Finger,
Whodini,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Order,
Tim Buckley,
Model 500,
John Foxx,
Rites of Spring,
Sly & The Family Stone,
PIL,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.