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 Bangladesh and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 In Retrospect to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
the Germs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brick,
Tears for Fears,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang Starr,
Visage,
The Trojans,
Magma,
The Motions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yaz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ossler,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gladiators,
The Slits,
Eric Copeland,
Unwound,
Ken Boothe,
Skarface,
Sight & Sound,
Howard Jones,
The Busters,
Archie Shepp,
Ice-T,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gories,
The Martian,
Drexciya,
Jawbox,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suburban Knight,
Fear,
Schoolly D,
Niagra,
Scan 7,
Quantec,
The Gun Club,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wasted Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
The Vogues,
Connie Case,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fela Kuti,
Erasure,
Thompson Twins,
Con Funk Shun,
Siglo XX,
Marcia Griffiths,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.