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 Turkey and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
Cymande,
Duran Duran,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Moon,
Darondo,
The Real Kids,
Wings,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DJ Style,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare,
Niagra,
Crime,
Alison Limerick,
The Move,
Rufus Thomas,
Cameo,
Mars,
Deepchord,
The Evens,
The Blues Magoos,
Erykah Badu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aswad,
June Days,
Ronnie Foster,
Yellowson,
Eric Copeland,
Tommy Roe,
The Vogues,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bronski Beat,
Roger Hodgson,
Can,
The Gladiators,
Mark Hollis,
New Order,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gap Band,
Little Man,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Janne Schatter,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Germs,
Motorama,
The American Breed,
Sam Rivers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Malaria!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Nick Fraelich,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.