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 Angola and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
DJ Sneak,
Suicide,
Laurel Aitken,
Roxy Music,
Eurythmics,
Main Source,
Fela Kuti,
Howard Jones,
Technova,
Peter and Kerry,
Pagans,
Kaleidoscope,
Marc Almond,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Icehouse,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kool Moe Dee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Cell,
Amon Düül II,
Janne Schatter,
Pierre Henry,
Brick,
Rites of Spring,
The Gap Band,
Don Cherry,
The Divine Comedy,
Agent Orange,
Ken Boothe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swell Maps,
Eve St. Jones,
Lungfish,
Cal Tjader,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Moby Grape,
Jeff Mills,
Barry Ungar,
The Residents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Hood,
Negative Approach,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mad Mike,
Black Bananas,
Deadbeat,
Hardrive,
X-102,
Letta Mbulu,
Spandau Ballet,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Hashim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gichy Dan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Normal,
The Neon Judgement,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Christie,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.