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 Afghanistan and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Delon & Dalcan to the funk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Motions,
David Axelrod,
Jacob Miller,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cowsills,
FM Einheit,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Don Cherry,
Delta 5,
Zero Boys,
Oblivians,
Yazoo,
Ronan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Angry Samoans,
The Offenders,
Public Image Ltd.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radio Birdman,
Harmonia,
Whodini,
Mars,
Funky Four + One,
Erasure,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nico,
Kaleidoscope,
Matthew Bourne,
Essential Logic,
Livin' Joy,
Mark Hollis,
Judy Mowatt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ten City,
Barrington Levy,
Fear,
Slave,
Sandy B,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Remains,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slits,
Niagra,
The Victims,
Roxy Music,
Sarah Menescal,
Circle Jerks,
Qualms,
Michelle Simonal,
Subhumans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cluster,
Albert Ayler,
Grandmaster Flash,
Alice Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
EPMD,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.