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 Bangladesh and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb 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 June Days to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Johnny Clarke,
The Velvet Underground,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gories,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Amazonics,
B.T. Express,
Rotary Connection,
Dennis Brown,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
The Dead C,
The Litter,
The Kinks,
kango's stein massive,
Brick,
Liliput,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Angels of Light,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sonics,
Qualms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harmonia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rufus Thomas,
The Count Five,
The Cure,
Niagra,
The Electric Prunes,
Mars,
Sparks,
Wolf Eyes,
Rites of Spring,
Susan Cadogan,
John Cale,
Blake Baxter,
Swell Maps,
Country Teasers,
Lindisfarne,
Bob Dylan,
Lower 48,
Delta 5,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stereo Dub,
Al Stewart,
The Real Kids,
the Bar-Kays,
The Blackbyrds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
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.