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 Malta and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
The Gap Band,
The Seeds,
Visage,
Subhumans,
China Crisis,
Derrick Morgan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
Juan Atkins,
The Velvet Underground,
Crooked Eye,
Wire,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Moon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mark Hollis,
Make Up,
ABC,
The Five Americans,
The Invisible,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Hood,
Colin Newman,
a-ha,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Loose Ends,
Pere Ubu,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Red Krayola,
Cymande,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quantec,
Audionom,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Flamin' Groovies,
Shuggie Otis,
The American Breed,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pole,
The Real Kids,
Agent Orange,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bob Dylan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Donald Byrd,
The Victims,
Altered Images,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ice-T,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.