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 Kenya and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gabor Szabo to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Stooges,
Marvin Gaye,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Althea and Donna,
Index,
Archie Shepp,
Ten City,
Fear,
Todd Rundgren,
Barrington Levy,
MC5,
Neu!,
Fatback Band,
L. Decosne,
Joe Finger,
David Bowie,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bob Dylan,
Spoonie Gee,
Hoover,
Bad Manners,
Zapp,
Shuggie Otis,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
Sixth Finger,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dead Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Remains,
Youth Brigade,
Sam Rivers,
Man Parrish,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Motorama,
Massinfluence,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Wells,
Eurythmics,
Thompson Twins,
Rekid,
Robert Hood,
Metal Thangz,
Reagan Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Eddi Front,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Darondo,
Jawbox,
Pantaleimon,
Technova,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.