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 Colombia and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Skaos to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
Section 25,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Gang Dance,
Junior Murvin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Faraquet,
Niagra,
The Moleskins,
Fear,
Tres Demented,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bizarre Inc.,
Flipper,
The Dead C,
The Moody Blues,
The Count Five,
Camouflage,
Porter Ricks,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun City Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Cal Tjader,
Franke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hashim,
Don Cherry,
Zero Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Soul II Soul,
Davy DMX,
The Black Dice,
Sight & Sound,
Funkadelic,
Newcleus,
The Trojans,
EPMD,
Supertramp,
Faust,
The Electric Prunes,
Infiniti,
Magazine,
The Fugs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Quantec,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blackbyrds,
Talk Talk,
The Litter,
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
Masters at Work,
The Stooges,
Whodini,
Quadrant,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.