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 Rwanda and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 Theoretical Girls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Black Pus,
Flash Fearless,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
DJ Sneak,
Faust,
Ultravox,
Qualms,
June of 44,
Saccharine Trust,
Althea and Donna,
The Evens,
Radio Birdman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
One Last Wish,
Matthew Bourne,
Whodini,
Hashim,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Motions,
Pussy Galore,
the Human League,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mummies,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Terry,
Buzzcocks,
Terry Callier,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wings,
Ice-T,
Lungfish,
John Holt,
Mission of Burma,
the Germs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
The Gap Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swell Maps,
Loose Ends,
The Blues Magoos,
Rotary Connection,
Das Ding,
The Shadows of Knight,
Surgeon,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Bananas,
Laurel Aitken,
World's Most,
Kerri Chandler,
The Happenings,
Suicide,
Albert Ayler,
Q and Not U,
Reagan Youth,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joensuu 1685,
The Residents,
The Buckinghams,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.