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 Nepal and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 the Fania All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Ken Boothe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Visage,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
Jacob Miller,
Reuben Wilson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alphaville,
Ronnie Foster,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Slits,
Babytalk,
Rapeman,
Gang Green,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Section 25,
Roger Hodgson,
Suicide,
John Foxx,
Tubeway Army,
June of 44,
Josef K,
Black Pus,
One Last Wish,
The Mojo Men,
D'Angelo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alton Ellis,
Average White Band,
The Techniques,
Sixth Finger,
Bluetip,
The Monks,
Bobby Byrd,
This Heat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ralphi Rosario,
Youth Brigade,
Joe Smooth,
Hardrive,
Subhumans,
Funkadelic,
Roxy Music,
Bill Wells,
Boogie Down Productions,
DJ Style,
Warsaw,
Radiopuhelimet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Music Machine,
Lalann,
Ice-T,
Mo-Dettes,
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.