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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Human League to the rock 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Rotary Connection,
Fear,
Visage,
Pylon,
Severed Heads,
Talk Talk,
The United States of America,
In Retrospect,
Rakim,
Mark Hollis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Connie Case,
Lungfish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Cale,
Siglo XX,
Toni Rubio,
Mars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
Sandy B,
T. Rex,
Bobby Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
Mad Mike,
Freddie Wadling,
Nils Olav,
Suburban Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roxy Music,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gastr Del Sol,
E-Dancer,
Khruangbin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Golliwogs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Godley & Creme,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rosa Yemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Y Pants,
Banda Bassotti,
Cybotron,
Ultra Naté,
L. Decosne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arthur Verocai,
Deepchord,
Sparks,
Ossler,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.