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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grunge 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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
the Germs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
This Heat,
New Order,
Slave,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soft Cell,
Minor Threat,
The Red Krayola,
Rapeman,
Eli Mardock,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Crime,
Man Parrish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aaron Thompson,
Deakin,
The Skatalites,
Maleditus Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dawn Penn,
Rhythm & Sound,
Guru Guru,
Subhumans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cheater Slicks,
Ken Boothe,
Aloha Tigers,
Newcleus,
Leonard Cohen,
Barry Ungar,
Quadrant,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pussy Galore,
Marcia Griffiths,
Unrelated Segments,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nick Fraelich,
The United States of America,
Flamin' Groovies,
Warsaw,
H. Thieme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alphaville,
Susan Cadogan,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Monks,
Lou Reed,
Rosa Yemen,
Aural Exciters,
Supertramp,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.