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 Hungary and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Kevin Saunderson to the techno 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
The Kinks,
Charles Mingus,
Crooked Eye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Section 25,
Idris Muhammad,
Audionom,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pole,
Minnie Riperton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sex Pistols,
Jawbox,
Sonic Youth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fuzztones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rapeman,
The Zeros,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Selecter,
The Blues Magoos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Maleditus Sound,
David Axelrod,
The Red Krayola,
Bill Near,
Gabor Szabo,
Fela Kuti,
The Evens,
Shoche,
Fluxion,
Jacob Miller,
Cecil Taylor,
The Wake,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultimate Spinach,
Can,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Teasers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Average White Band,
Radiohead,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aloha Tigers,
the Association,
New Order,
Gang Starr,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cowsills,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.