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 South Sudan and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Count Five to the dance 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Essential Logic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Wyatt,
Fatback Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Graham Central Station,
Con Funk Shun,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra,
The Monks,
The Stooges,
Jerry's Kids,
Outsiders,
MC5,
Index,
Peter & Gordon,
Soul II Soul,
Gang Starr,
The Moleskins,
Country Teasers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moby Grape,
Morten Harket,
Mark Hollis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yaz,
The Residents,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kurtis Blow,
Basic Channel,
Lou Reed,
Barrington Levy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dave Gahan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxette,
Qualms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DJ Sneak,
Oblivians,
James White and The Blacks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mandrill,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stiv Bators,
The Tremeloes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soft Cell,
The Martian,
The Modern Lovers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Crime,
Malaria!,
Idris Muhammad,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gichy Dan,
Banda Bassotti,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.