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 Indonesia and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
DJ Sneak,
The Moleskins,
Desert Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dave Gahan,
Sparks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Techniques,
Drive Like Jehu,
Zapp,
Lou Christie,
Bootsy Collins,
Idris Muhammad,
China Crisis,
Connie Case,
The Angels of Light,
Can,
Soft Machine,
Scan 7,
The Durutti Column,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rotary Connection,
Sandy B,
Tears for Fears,
Radiohead,
Aswad,
Mad Mike,
The Doors,
Ken Boothe,
Lower 48,
Harmonia,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rekid,
Malaria!,
The Buckinghams,
John Holt,
Quando Quango,
The Human League,
Pantytec,
ABBA,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
E-Dancer,
The Smoke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cal Tjader,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pulsallama,
the Human League,
Jawbox,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Raincoats,
Patti Smith,
The Shadows of Knight,
MC5,
Average White Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Chris Corsano,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.