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 Bahrain 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Simply Red,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Move,
Average White Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sixth Finger,
Bootsy Collins,
the Association,
Black Moon,
The Vogues,
One Last Wish,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scott Walker,
Moby Grape,
The Black Dice,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Surgeon,
Cameo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Babytalk,
the Normal,
Dorothy Ashby,
Matthew Bourne,
John Holt,
Harry Pussy,
Fugazi,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Accadde A,
L. Decosne,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
China Crisis,
Glenn Branca,
Sound Behaviour,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Man Parrish,
Pagans,
The Durutti Column,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Buckinghams,
Funky Four + One,
the Slits,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Audionom,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tears for Fears,
The Mojo Men,
The New Christs,
ABC,
The Star Department,
Negative Approach,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Pop Group,
Pole,
Stereo Dub,
Kenny Larkin,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cure,
Robert Wyatt,
Lightning Bolt,
June of 44,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.