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 Dominica and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
The Gories,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Black Flag,
The Mummies,
Whodini,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radiohead,
The Happenings,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sugar Minott,
Morten Harket,
La Düsseldorf,
Y Pants,
The Cure,
Boz Scaggs,
Au Pairs,
Kerrie Biddell,
F. McDonald,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Warsaw,
The Birthday Party,
Faraquet,
Minor Threat,
Soulsonic Force,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Surgeon,
Rekid,
Scan 7,
Magma,
Pagans,
Max Romeo,
Flipper,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Human League,
Iggy Pop,
Crash Course in Science,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fela Kuti,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Kinks,
Marmalade,
Ituana,
These Immortal Souls,
Lalann,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick May,
Agent Orange,
The Gun Club,
Jacques Brel,
The Techniques,
Tears for Fears,
Minnie Riperton,
Eurythmics,
Malaria!,
Audionom,
Jeru the Damaja,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.