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 Liberia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 The Fire Engines to the grunge 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
the Soft Cell,
Scott Walker,
Soul II Soul,
Michelle Simonal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
8 Eyed Spy,
Spandau Ballet,
Shoche,
X-Ray Spex,
Kool Moe Dee,
Excepter,
Pole,
Brick,
Carl Craig,
Khruangbin,
Con Funk Shun,
June Days,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gabor Szabo,
Suburban Knight,
T.S.O.L.,
Susan Cadogan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Divine Comedy,
The American Breed,
Fad Gadget,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
cv313,
ABC,
Gang Green,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Christie,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roxette,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blackbyrds,
The Real Kids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Toni Rubio,
Tres Demented,
Urselle,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Toasters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bob Dylan,
The Names,
Nation of Ulysses,
Henry Cow,
Interpol,
Rites of Spring,
Joey Negro,
Ten City,
Albert Ayler,
Arcadia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Q and Not U,
Quadrant,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.