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 Thailand and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The Doobie Brothers to the jazz 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Newcleus,
The Monks,
Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Patti Smith,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Howard Jones,
Saccharine Trust,
the Swans,
Eurythmics,
Minny Pops,
Grauzone,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Halsall,
Swell Maps,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Terry Callier,
John Lydon,
Aloha Tigers,
Aswad,
Stetsasonic,
Fatback Band,
The Techniques,
T. Rex,
Scott Walker,
Mantronix,
Delon & Dalcan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Clear Light,
Marine Girls,
Fear,
Skarface,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crooked Eye,
UT,
Bad Manners,
The Martian,
Marmalade,
Nas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Thee Headcoats,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Throbbing Gristle,
Sex Pistols,
Vladislav Delay,
Underground Resistance,
Radiohead,
Mars,
Scientists,
Zapp,
Pylon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boredoms,
Kayak,
Amon Düül,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.