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 Rwanda and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the jazz 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nils Olav,
Porter Ricks,
Drexciya,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Patti Smith,
Blancmange,
The Blackbyrds,
Technova,
The Gun Club,
Negative Approach,
Newcleus,
Brothers Johnson,
Albert Ayler,
China Crisis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marmalade,
U.S. Maple,
The Sonics,
The Real Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Quando Quango,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sound,
The Searchers,
Fluxion,
Gang of Four,
Darondo,
Henry Cow,
Masters at Work,
the Fania All-Stars,
Das Ding,
The Durutti Column,
Beasts of Bourbon,
These Immortal Souls,
The Barracudas,
Ultra Naté,
James White and The Blacks,
Althea and Donna,
The Beau Brummels,
Tomorrow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Erykah Badu,
Absolute Body Control,
Public Enemy,
Gichy Dan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tres Demented,
Magma,
Laurel Aitken,
Fort Wilson Riot,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bad Manners,
Average White Band,
John Cale,
Saccharine Trust,
Prince Buster,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.