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 Uzbekistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the rock 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
the Normal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Colin Newman,
Boredoms,
Alton Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scott Walker,
The Saints,
Althea and Donna,
Nico,
The Real Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Neon Judgement,
The Divine Comedy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Green,
Gang of Four,
Dawn Penn,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Thompson Twins,
Angry Samoans,
Harry Pussy,
Lyres,
Ronnie Foster,
Unwound,
The Slackers,
Porter Ricks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bronski Beat,
Gabor Szabo,
The United States of America,
Model 500,
Faust,
The Misunderstood,
Hoover,
The Mummies,
Peter & Gordon,
Metal Thangz,
the Sonics,
The Monks,
Rakim,
China Crisis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jacques Brel,
Ronan,
Joy Division,
Quando Quango,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mandrill,
The American Breed,
Roy Ayers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Khruangbin,
Camouflage,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Sherman,
Crash Course in Science,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sonny Sharrock,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.