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 Fiji 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Throbbing Gristle to the electroclash 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Alphaville,
Ossler,
The Cure,
Delta 5,
Duran Duran,
Deadbeat,
Fad Gadget,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Royal Trux,
Minny Pops,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tres Demented,
a-ha,
Public Enemy,
Junior Murvin,
Loose Ends,
Infiniti,
Groovy Waters,
David Bowie,
Pantaleimon,
Nico,
Soul II Soul,
Gerry Rafferty,
T. Rex,
New York Dolls,
Harry Pussy,
Goldenarms,
Simply Red,
Grauzone,
Heaven 17,
Newcleus,
The Skatalites,
Brick,
Severed Heads,
Colin Newman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Byrd,
Adolescents,
The United States of America,
the Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Wake,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bronski Beat,
Lower 48,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stiv Bators,
DJ Style,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
Joyce Sims,
Kenny Larkin,
The Associates,
Stereo Dub,
The Index,
Television,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.