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 Guatemala and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Scientists to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Amon Düül,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nick Fraelich,
Sällskapet,
FM Einheit,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slits,
Harry Pussy,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Angels of Light,
Sister Nancy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Basic Channel,
Adolescents,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-Ray Spex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Deepchord,
Nirvana,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Arcadia,
Josef K,
The Zeros,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lyres,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Gregory Isaacs,
Absolute Body Control,
Unwound,
Graham Central Station,
Main Source,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Sherman,
Byron Stingily,
The Gap Band,
Soul II Soul,
Ronnie Foster,
New York Dolls,
Tommy Roe,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Chrome,
The Stooges,
Piero Umiliani,
Sarah Menescal,
Cluster,
Matthew Halsall,
The Kinks,
the Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Monks,
Bronski Beat,
June of 44,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.