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 San Marino and from Glasgow.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wake to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grey Daturas,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Misunderstood,
Schoolly D,
Al Stewart,
Anakelly,
The Blackbyrds,
Neil Young,
New York Dolls,
Scientists,
Eddi Front,
cv313,
The Techniques,
Radio Birdman,
Parry Music,
The Mojo Men,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Associates,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Marine Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Arcadia,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dead C,
Hardrive,
Matthew Bourne,
Janne Schatter,
Subhumans,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Görl,
Sarah Menescal,
Rosa Yemen,
Joyce Sims,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-Ray Spex,
Lightning Bolt,
The Slits,
Massinfluence,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brand Nubian,
Lower 48,
The Modern Lovers,
Susan Cadogan,
Von Mondo,
Harry Pussy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chris & Cosey,
a-ha,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Five Americans,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.