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 Mauritania and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Deakin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
The Real Kids,
K-Klass,
Echospace,
Banda Bassotti,
The Martian,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Funky Four + One,
Junior Murvin,
Hot Snakes,
Sparks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DNA,
Dave Gahan,
Zero Boys,
Blancmange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quando Quango,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
June of 44,
Sugar Minott,
Sandy B,
The Gun Club,
Susan Cadogan,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
Arab on Radar,
The Star Department,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jawbox,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sarah Menescal,
The Beau Brummels,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Althea and Donna,
Minor Threat,
The Litter,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers,
Pantytec,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Depeche Mode,
Au Pairs,
Alton Ellis,
Scratch Acid,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stetsasonic,
Soft Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Dark Day,
CMW,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grey Daturas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.