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 Indonesia and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 David McCallum to the punk 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nik Kershaw,
Spoonie Gee,
Ponytail,
Japan,
the Human League,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Motorama,
Nas,
Sister Nancy,
Banda Bassotti,
Drexciya,
China Crisis,
Rod Modell,
The Slits,
Metal Thangz,
DNA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Joey Negro,
Suburban Knight,
Ultra Naté,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerri Chandler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Groovy Waters,
JFA,
Isaac Hayes,
The Saints,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Evens,
The Blackbyrds,
Loose Ends,
the Swans,
Scratch Acid,
Rites of Spring,
Barry Ungar,
Sixth Finger,
Country Teasers,
Rosa Yemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wings,
Lindisfarne,
Brand Nubian,
Sandy B,
The Velvet Underground,
Jandek,
Rekid,
Colin Newman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lungfish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Durutti Column,
Bronski Beat,
Joy Division,
Swans,
Terry Callier,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.