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 United States and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Erasure to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues 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?
Magazine,
Bronski Beat,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Slackers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Curtis Mayfield,
Japan,
Wasted Youth,
Man Parrish,
Kerri Chandler,
Groovy Waters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rites of Spring,
Buzzcocks,
Todd Terry,
The J.B.'s,
Shoche,
The Neon Judgement,
the Human League,
Heaven 17,
The Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
The Walker Brothers,
Bill Wells,
Thee Headcoats,
R.M.O.,
Khruangbin,
Spoonie Gee,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pussy Galore,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Terry Callier,
Roxette,
Piero Umiliani,
Rotary Connection,
Dark Day,
Alton Ellis,
Henry Cow,
Erasure,
Judy Mowatt,
Vainqueur,
Das Ding,
X-101,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Evens,
Accadde A,
Quantec,
The Mummies,
Aloha Tigers,
The Standells,
Robert Wyatt,
Faraquet,
The Buckinghams,
Neil Young,
Danielle Patucci,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sound,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.