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 United States and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Deadbeat to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Amon Düül II,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mark Hollis,
Ohio Players,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Association,
Matthew Bourne,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
Dual Sessions,
Grauzone,
the Slits,
48th St. Collective,
Silicon Teens,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Neon Judgement,
Juan Atkins,
Mo-Dettes,
Bluetip,
Severed Heads,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arcadia,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
The Black Dice,
The Associates,
Minnie Riperton,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pole,
Steve Hackett,
Warren Ellis,
Stiv Bators,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Grass Roots,
Roger Hodgson,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grey Daturas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeff Lynne,
The Leaves,
Average White Band,
Arab on Radar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Vainqueur,
Quantec,
Laurel Aitken,
Faraquet,
Black Pus,
Hashim,
Monolake,
Sister Nancy,
Crime,
Chris Corsano,
Sex Pistols,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.