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 United States and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Fad Gadget to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Ludus,
the Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Connie Case,
Q and Not U,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Laurel Aitken,
The Red Krayola,
the Swans,
Mad Mike,
One Last Wish,
Barrington Levy,
Ken Boothe,
Brick,
The Knickerbockers,
James White and The Blacks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pharoah Sanders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faraquet,
Donald Byrd,
Pantytec,
Dawn Penn,
Graham Central Station,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Davy DMX,
The Names,
Charles Mingus,
Talk Talk,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lucky Dragons,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Young Rascals,
Swell Maps,
Donny Hathaway,
Fear,
Sun Ra,
Johnny Clarke,
Oneida,
The Smoke,
Marine Girls,
Tim Buckley,
The Tremeloes,
The Golliwogs,
Dark Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Chris & Cosey,
The Slackers,
Simply Red,
Idris Muhammad,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Pretty Things,
The Selecter,
Tubeway Army,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Supertramp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Skarface,
Gong,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.