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 Serbia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Tremeloes,
Hasil Adkins,
Barbara Tucker,
Tim Buckley,
Ronan,
Suburban Knight,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Albert Ayler,
Amon Düül,
James White and The Blacks,
Scan 7,
Rapeman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barry Ungar,
Bootsy Collins,
The Victims,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pantaleimon,
John Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lalo Schifrin,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Little Man,
Khruangbin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Trumans Water,
The Durutti Column,
Moebius,
The Monks,
Matthew Halsall,
Barclay James Harvest,
cv313,
Qualms,
Mo-Dettes,
Crooked Eye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
A Certain Ratio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Smog,
Public Enemy,
Oneida,
Bronski Beat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radio Birdman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick Morgan,
Kenny Larkin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masters at Work,
Mark Hollis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mission of Burma,
John Cale,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
the Normal,
Duran Duran,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Funky Four + One,
Essential Logic,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.