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 Lesotho and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Andrew Hill to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Q65,
The Beau Brummels,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Anakelly,
Jeff Mills,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nation of Ulysses,
Livin' Joy,
Flipper,
Archie Shepp,
Lakeside,
The Gories,
Grey Daturas,
T.S.O.L.,
One Last Wish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lindisfarne,
The Remains,
Marc Almond,
Arthur Verocai,
Youth Brigade,
Bluetip,
New York Dolls,
Eurythmics,
Thompson Twins,
Procol Harum,
Rites of Spring,
OOIOO,
The Searchers,
Kenny Larkin,
Toni Rubio,
Darondo,
Young Marble Giants,
Minnie Riperton,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cowsills,
Dave Gahan,
The Smiths,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joensuu 1685,
Jerry's Kids,
Television,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Saints,
John Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Wyatt,
the Sonics,
Ohio Players,
The Litter,
Urselle,
Essential Logic,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.