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 Bulgaria and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 The Gap Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magazine,
Parry Music,
Minutemen,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Darondo,
Sound Behaviour,
Bronski Beat,
Aloha Tigers,
Roy Ayers,
Echospace,
These Immortal Souls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Walker Brothers,
Accadde A,
Bauhaus,
Joensuu 1685,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Kinks,
Minnie Riperton,
Cymande,
Mission of Burma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oblivians,
Los Fastidios,
Scion,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
June of 44,
F. McDonald,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang of Four,
Robert Wyatt,
Lakeside,
Freddie Wadling,
Joy Division,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed,
Bizarre Inc.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Charles Mingus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lalann,
Cluster,
The Leaves,
the Sonics,
Alison Limerick,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dead C,
Derrick May,
Rekid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Flag,
Das Ding,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.