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 Malawi and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 Reuben Wilson to the grunge 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Lou Christie,
Howard Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Deadbeat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Letta Mbulu,
Cal Tjader,
John Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Technova,
Skaos,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sugar Minott,
Ten City,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Excepter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Slits,
Desert Stars,
This Heat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Connie Case,
Loose Ends,
Nico,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dirtbombs,
Main Source,
Accadde A,
Josef K,
Vainqueur,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Laurel Aitken,
Cymande,
Reagan Youth,
Circle Jerks,
Ronnie Foster,
The Knickerbockers,
Sixth Finger,
The Slackers,
Andrew Hill,
In Retrospect,
KRS-One,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Freddie Wadling,
Simply Red,
Lalann,
The Neon Judgement,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rakim,
Blancmange,
the Human League,
Soulsonic Force,
Althea and Donna,
Roxy Music,
Supertramp,
The Zeros,
The Fortunes,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.