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 Singapore and from Manila.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the grime 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Bill Wells,
Amon Düül,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Magma,
Black Bananas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxy Music,
The Smoke,
June of 44,
Theoretical Girls,
Average White Band,
Alphaville,
H. Thieme,
Eric Copeland,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Wyatt,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed,
The Angels of Light,
Barry Ungar,
Lyres,
Al Stewart,
The Golliwogs,
the Slits,
Fad Gadget,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
JFA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soft Machine,
Surgeon,
Arab on Radar,
Q and Not U,
Symarip,
Bang On A Can,
Eli Mardock,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Cale,
New Age Steppers,
The Doors,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fifty Foot Hose,
B.T. Express,
Black Pus,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wally Richardson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ituana,
Stereo Dub,
T. Rex,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crooked Eye,
Reuben Wilson,
Lower 48,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.