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 Nepal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator 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 Joyce Sims to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Young Marble Giants,
Yusef Lateef,
the Sonics,
Tom Boy,
Dual Sessions,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Wells,
Yellowson,
Dave Gahan,
the Human League,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
The Young Rascals,
Lindisfarne,
The Saints,
Lalo Schifrin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arab on Radar,
The Standells,
Black Pus,
Stiv Bators,
Qualms,
Archie Shepp,
Interpol,
Simply Red,
The Fortunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Banda Bassotti,
The Velvet Underground,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultravox,
The Dead C,
Hoover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hashim,
Cameo,
Wolf Eyes,
Angry Samoans,
the Normal,
KRS-One,
Mad Mike,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Evens,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The American Breed,
The Cure,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
kango's stein massive,
Freddie Wadling,
Little Man,
Das Ding,
Agent Orange,
Ornette Coleman,
Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soulsonic Force,
Inner City,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.