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 Dominican Republic and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ice-T to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Brick,
Television Personalities,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The American Breed,
The Remains,
LL Cool J,
Spoonie Gee,
The Misunderstood,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Bananas,
Reagan Youth,
Don Cherry,
Icehouse,
Ornette Coleman,
Rufus Thomas,
Matthew Halsall,
The Happenings,
DJ Sneak,
Country Teasers,
Visage,
The Selecter,
The Fugs,
Goldenarms,
John Lydon,
K-Klass,
Eddi Front,
The Standells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Seeds,
Nico,
Derrick May,
T.S.O.L.,
The Leaves,
Gang of Four,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Carl Craig,
Animal Collective,
Nas,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Style,
The Real Kids,
Easy Going,
the Bar-Kays,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Christie,
The Offenders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-Ray Spex,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Moon,
Minnie Riperton,
Malaria!,
D'Angelo,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Blossom Toes,
DNA,
Nick Fraelich,
Tubeway Army,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.