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 Angola and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sex Pistols 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Mad Mike,
Blancmange,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Golliwogs,
Half Japanese,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
AZ,
Bill Wells,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Dual Sessions,
Ultravox,
The J.B.'s,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Doors,
Ronan,
Erykah Badu,
Slick Rick,
Echospace,
The Smiths,
Byron Stingily,
Supertramp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
China Crisis,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
B.T. Express,
Eyeless In Gaza,
LL Cool J,
Barrington Levy,
Trumans Water,
Grey Daturas,
X-Ray Spex,
Wire,
The Young Rascals,
Brass Construction,
In Retrospect,
Deadbeat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yazoo,
Little Man,
Thee Headcoats,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Moon,
Albert Ayler,
Ronnie Foster,
UT,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Beau Brummels,
Lakeside,
Derrick May,
Drexciya,
ABC,
Outsiders,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.