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 Australia and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 Boogie Down Productions 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Erykah Badu,
Soul II Soul,
The Doors,
Iggy Pop,
The Count Five,
Pagans,
Flash Fearless,
Television Personalities,
Cybotron,
Average White Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moody Blues,
the Soft Cell,
X-102,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Panda Bear,
The Pretty Things,
The Fugs,
Camouflage,
Scratch Acid,
Joyce Sims,
Heaven 17,
Crime,
Faust,
Sight & Sound,
Surgeon,
Main Source,
Roxette,
Ronan,
Rekid,
D'Angelo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joe Smooth,
The Dead C,
David Axelrod,
Byron Stingily,
DJ Sneak,
Aloha Tigers,
Pole,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeff Lynne,
Roy Ayers,
Jeff Mills,
Arcadia,
The Walker Brothers,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boz Scaggs,
Scientists,
Thee Headcoats,
Marine Girls,
The Index,
Aaron Thompson,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.