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 Nauru and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grunge 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Rod Modell,
CMW,
Country Teasers,
The Names,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Seeds,
Robert Hood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nils Olav,
Drexciya,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minnie Riperton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Count Five,
Minutemen,
Susan Cadogan,
Slick Rick,
Stockholm Monsters,
Piero Umiliani,
Quadrant,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pierre Henry,
Bill Wells,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Colin Newman,
Arab on Radar,
Don Cherry,
The Red Krayola,
AZ,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Judy Mowatt,
Cluster,
Man Parrish,
Youth Brigade,
Archie Shepp,
Banda Bassotti,
The Buckinghams,
The Blackbyrds,
The Tremeloes,
Ten City,
Kerri Chandler,
Gong,
K-Klass,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eric Dolphy,
The Grass Roots,
Malaria!,
Traffic Nightmare,
Heaven 17,
Radiohead,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül II,
Brothers Johnson,
Faraquet,
Magma,
John Foxx,
This Heat,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.