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 Tonga and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Blackbyrds 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
The Motions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
L. Decosne,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
Pole,
Supertramp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Angry Samoans,
Eurythmics,
PIL,
Eve St. Jones,
Terry Callier,
Magazine,
Mission of Burma,
U.S. Maple,
Sister Nancy,
Deepchord,
Fela Kuti,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Music Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Hoover,
The Busters,
Average White Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Derrick Morgan,
Urselle,
Dual Sessions,
David McCallum,
Steve Hackett,
Black Sheep,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New York Dolls,
a-ha,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Negative Approach,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Association,
Cluster,
Ultra Naté,
Dead Boys,
Jawbox,
John Cale,
Rekid,
Oneida,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hashim,
Royal Trux,
John Coltrane,
Mr. Review,
Ludus,
Echospace,
Sam Rivers,
Bluetip,
Gichy Dan,
Warsaw,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.