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 Guatemala and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Sugar Minott to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Roxy Music,
Skriet,
Flipper,
Robert Görl,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABC,
Jimmy McGriff,
T.S.O.L.,
Excepter,
The Martian,
The Smiths,
The Pretty Things,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sonny Sharrock,
Archie Shepp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roger Hodgson,
Neil Young,
Visage,
DJ Style,
The Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
The Offenders,
Eve St. Jones,
Inner City,
The Happenings,
Rhythm & Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Womack,
T. Rex,
The Black Dice,
Smog,
Livin' Joy,
Peter & Gordon,
Icehouse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gerry Rafferty,
Youth Brigade,
Au Pairs,
La Düsseldorf,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
The Saints,
UT,
Jawbox,
Panda Bear,
Barbara Tucker,
Severed Heads,
Sparks,
Sex Pistols,
Bootsy Collins,
Moebius,
Derrick Morgan,
Quadrant,
Marc Almond,
Altered Images,
Reuben Wilson,
Rakim,
Funkadelic,
The Victims,
Brick,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.