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 Korea South and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Harry Pussy to the punk 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
DJ Sneak,
Circle Jerks,
Moby Grape,
The Gun Club,
Terry Callier,
This Heat,
The Monks,
Bill Wells,
Ronan,
Infiniti,
Howard Jones,
Joensuu 1685,
Marine Girls,
PIL,
The Barracudas,
The Raincoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maleditus Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-101,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radio Birdman,
David Axelrod,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Amon Düül II,
The Happenings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Godley & Creme,
Can,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eurythmics,
Harry Pussy,
Cameo,
Albert Ayler,
Guru Guru,
Desert Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smiths,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang of Four,
Liliput,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Green,
Talk Talk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Young Marble Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
The Alarm Clocks,
Idris Muhammad,
Laurel Aitken,
Surgeon,
The Remains,
Stiv Bators,
The Moleskins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grey Daturas,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.