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 Netherlands and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Dirtbombs to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Green,
Ossler,
K-Klass,
The Trojans,
The Knickerbockers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yusef Lateef,
The Monochrome Set,
Deepchord,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Toasters,
Tom Boy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Qualms,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sällskapet,
Jerry's Kids,
Crime,
The Angels of Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Oneida,
The Grass Roots,
ABC,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Barracudas,
Urselle,
Pantytec,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Velvet Underground,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brand Nubian,
Y Pants,
Kas Product,
Black Sheep,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nik Kershaw,
Pantaleimon,
Jacob Miller,
Essential Logic,
Mr. Review,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
Spoonie Gee,
Silicon Teens,
The Saints,
Sight & Sound,
Brass Construction,
DJ Sneak,
Colin Newman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Quantec,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Heaven 17,
Man Parrish,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.