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 Switzerland and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Ultravox to the funk 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
This Heat,
Bluetip,
Alphaville,
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
Amon Düül II,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül,
Scott Walker,
Todd Rundgren,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
OOIOO,
Andrew Hill,
The Move,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Silicon Teens,
Wasted Youth,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Red Krayola,
Vladislav Delay,
Procol Harum,
Radiohead,
Warsaw,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Green,
Talk Talk,
Aaron Thompson,
Bronski Beat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Real Kids,
U.S. Maple,
DJ Style,
New Age Steppers,
Fatback Band,
Skriet,
Stiv Bators,
Mars,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Camberwell Now,
CMW,
KRS-One,
Fad Gadget,
Suicide,
The Black Dice,
The New Christs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacob Miller,
The Barracudas,
Tomorrow,
Monks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultra Naté,
Eric B and Rakim,
Heaven 17,
Blake Baxter,
Kurtis Blow,
Thompson Twins,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.