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 Cameroon 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eric Dolphy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Nick Fraelich,
Tubeway Army,
Procol Harum,
Spandau Ballet,
Interpol,
Cameo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amon Düül,
Popol Vuh,
Howard Jones,
Newcleus,
Bobby Byrd,
Kaleidoscope,
Scrapy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Intrusion,
New York Dolls,
Faust,
The Vogues,
Amazonics,
Desert Stars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bill Wells,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crooked Eye,
Second Layer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pulsallama,
Al Stewart,
John Holt,
Das Ding,
Accadde A,
Khruangbin,
The Knickerbockers,
Dennis Brown,
Ronan,
Malaria!,
Grey Daturas,
The Move,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minnie Riperton,
Scan 7,
The Angels of Light,
Model 500,
New Age Steppers,
The Stooges,
Radiopuhelimet,
8 Eyed Spy,
a-ha,
Sun City Girls,
Ossler,
The Walker Brothers,
Harmonia,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
Spoonie Gee,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.