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 Colombia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 The Gladiators to the rock 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Adolescents,
F. McDonald,
the Human League,
Vainqueur,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nils Olav,
X-101,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Move,
Mary Jane Girls,
Echospace,
Rekid,
Althea and Donna,
Robert Wyatt,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
Absolute Body Control,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sparks,
Mr. Review,
Derrick Morgan,
Quantec,
The Fall,
Leonard Cohen,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun Ra,
Roxy Music,
The Knickerbockers,
Kas Product,
The Human League,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DNA,
Severed Heads,
Stereo Dub,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smoke,
Eric Dolphy,
Donald Byrd,
Byron Stingily,
Marine Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tommy Roe,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cramps,
Marmalade,
Scion,
Pagans,
Tears for Fears,
Gabor Szabo,
DJ Sneak,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Alison Limerick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Frankie Knuckles,
T. Rex,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.