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 Cambodia and from Lyon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Desert Stars to the grunge 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
David Bowie,
Popol Vuh,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Sherman,
the Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Hashim,
Supertramp,
The Techniques,
Yazoo,
Spoonie Gee,
Con Funk Shun,
Hardrive,
Young Marble Giants,
Arcadia,
Black Pus,
Minny Pops,
Howard Jones,
Tears for Fears,
Fat Boys,
DJ Style,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brass Construction,
The Slits,
The Five Americans,
X-Ray Spex,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
10cc,
Gang Starr,
The Names,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Stiv Bators,
The Fall,
Zapp,
Theoretical Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Josef K,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bob Dylan,
Accadde A,
ABC,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amon Düül,
Pulsallama,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Raincoats,
Eli Mardock,
Jandek,
Fad Gadget,
Outsiders,
Ituana,
Alice Coltrane,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.