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 Tuvalu and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moleskins to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Ice-T,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
The Star Department,
Throbbing Gristle,
Oneida,
FM Einheit,
Can,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moebius,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sam Rivers,
The Searchers,
Mission of Burma,
KRS-One,
David McCallum,
F. McDonald,
La Düsseldorf,
Massinfluence,
Pole,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tomorrow,
The Sonics,
the Swans,
Maurizio,
Saccharine Trust,
the Human League,
The Count Five,
Motorama,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jeff Lynne,
Juan Atkins,
The Fortunes,
The Fugs,
Ituana,
The Motions,
Circle Jerks,
Yusef Lateef,
Brass Construction,
The Stooges,
The Move,
Nik Kershaw,
Rufus Thomas,
Eurythmics,
The Names,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Freddie Wadling,
H. Thieme,
Minny Pops,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sixth Finger,
Bob Dylan,
Index,
Scratch Acid,
Harpers Bizarre,
Echospace,
Derrick May,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.