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 Spain and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Girls At Our Best! 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Surgeon,
Scrapy,
Hot Snakes,
Aaron Thompson,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
Mr. Review,
Goldenarms,
Marc Almond,
Hashim,
Severed Heads,
the Swans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wings,
Section 25,
Khruangbin,
The Velvet Underground,
Lee Hazlewood,
Symarip,
Kerri Chandler,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rufus Thomas,
Warsaw,
Little Man,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moody Blues,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Techniques,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alphaville,
Soulsonic Force,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Qualms,
A Certain Ratio,
Cal Tjader,
U.S. Maple,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül,
AZ,
The Searchers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gun Club,
Lungfish,
Wally Richardson,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun City Girls,
Cameo,
Alison Limerick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soft Cell,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.