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 Poland and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Bill Wells,
Amon Düül,
Pagans,
Skarface,
Archie Shepp,
A Certain Ratio,
This Heat,
Ludus,
Black Pus,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
New Age Steppers,
Aaron Thompson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mars,
The Wake,
The Remains,
the Swans,
Accadde A,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
Altered Images,
Spandau Ballet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scrapy,
Banda Bassotti,
Bronski Beat,
Chris & Cosey,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gerry Rafferty,
Althea and Donna,
Donny Hathaway,
PIL,
Q and Not U,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joyce Sims,
Connie Case,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Panda Bear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Todd Rundgren,
Marmalade,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wasted Youth,
Al Stewart,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Mills,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Anakelly,
LL Cool J,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Divine Comedy,
The Music Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
Andrew Hill,
The Victims,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ohio Players,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.