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 Armenia and from Manila.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sun City Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Flipper,
The Remains,
Davy DMX,
Sight & Sound,
Lalann,
One Last Wish,
The Fuzztones,
The Litter,
The Star Department,
Laurel Aitken,
Arab on Radar,
Vainqueur,
Cybotron,
Connie Case,
Chris Corsano,
The Mojo Men,
Zapp,
The Barracudas,
Desert Stars,
Mantronix,
John Holt,
The Toasters,
The Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
The Gun Club,
Fluxion,
Marc Almond,
The Pretty Things,
Sister Nancy,
John Lydon,
Yazoo,
Alton Ellis,
Sex Pistols,
Pylon,
Fugazi,
The Doobie Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Buzzcocks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Wake,
Andrew Hill,
Charles Mingus,
MC5,
Thompson Twins,
Brick,
T. Rex,
The Golliwogs,
Derrick Morgan,
Intrusion,
X-Ray Spex,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter and Kerry,
Severed Heads,
Gerry Rafferty,
Drive Like Jehu,
Television Personalities,
Ponytail,
Au Pairs,
Soul II Soul,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Hoover,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.