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 Czech Republic and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Moebius,
Derrick Morgan,
Moss Icon,
T.S.O.L.,
Hot Snakes,
The Doors,
The Barracudas,
Peter and Kerry,
Harmonia,
The Martian,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Depeche Mode,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scott Walker,
Magma,
A Certain Ratio,
X-Ray Spex,
Anakelly,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Slackers,
The Gap Band,
the Soft Cell,
Spoonie Gee,
The Happenings,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Bar-Kays,
Rosa Yemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pierre Henry,
Niagra,
The Golliwogs,
The Sonics,
Jawbox,
Dead Boys,
The Standells,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arcadia,
Basic Channel,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cecil Taylor,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Görl,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ohio Players,
Qualms,
David Bowie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Goldenarms,
Ossler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
10cc,
Man Parrish,
Little Man,
The Five Americans,
Pulsallama,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.