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 the UAE and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Severed Heads to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Intrusion,
Mo-Dettes,
the Bar-Kays,
Ken Boothe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quando Quango,
John Holt,
D'Angelo,
Spoonie Gee,
Absolute Body Control,
Little Man,
The United States of America,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Dolphy,
Funky Four + One,
The Residents,
Rekid,
Robert Wyatt,
The Blues Magoos,
The Angels of Light,
The Monochrome Set,
Fela Kuti,
Terry Callier,
Boz Scaggs,
Roy Ayers,
Ten City,
Grey Daturas,
Pere Ubu,
Soft Machine,
Monolake,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sex Pistols,
The Buckinghams,
The Wake,
Sun Ra,
Guru Guru,
Fluxion,
Kerrie Biddell,
EPMD,
Arab on Radar,
Hot Snakes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crooked Eye,
The Evens,
Judy Mowatt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Raincoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alton Ellis,
Main Source,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dirtbombs,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.