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 Germany and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Little Man to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Sandy B,
the Soft Cell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skriet,
The Black Dice,
DJ Style,
Chris & Cosey,
Television Personalities,
Ultravox,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boz Scaggs,
Joy Division,
The Angels of Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cameo,
The Gap Band,
The Searchers,
Joe Smooth,
Eurythmics,
Soul Sonic Force,
Popol Vuh,
Wasted Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Walker Brothers,
Bluetip,
Sun City Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Absolute Body Control,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scrapy,
Robert Görl,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sunsets and Hearts,
UT,
Agitation Free,
MC5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
CMW,
Neu!,
the Germs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aswad,
Black Bananas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Liliput,
Mo-Dettes,
Soft Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
Oneida,
Radio Birdman,
Ohio Players,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Young Rascals,
Silicon Teens,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sex Pistols,
Kaleidoscope,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.