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 Turkmenistan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lungfish 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Sex Pistols,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jacob Miller,
Gregory Isaacs,
Trumans Water,
Surgeon,
Marine Girls,
Grey Daturas,
Black Flag,
Maurizio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DNA,
The Motions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Swell Maps,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Techniques,
The Buckinghams,
Stetsasonic,
Livin' Joy,
Gong,
The Slackers,
The Fire Engines,
Eden Ahbez,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Birthday Party,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ludus,
Brand Nubian,
Lakeside,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Au Pairs,
The Monks,
Crime,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Lydon,
Juan Atkins,
Aural Exciters,
The Trojans,
The Invisible,
Silicon Teens,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cowsills,
Scott Walker,
Tres Demented,
Stiv Bators,
Arcadia,
Jeff Mills,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Leonard Cohen,
CMW,
Eli Mardock,
X-101,
Bronski Beat,
Spoonie Gee,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.