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 Guyana and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultra Naté to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
The Saints,
Section 25,
Tim Buckley,
The Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
H. Thieme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cybotron,
Animal Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Alarm Clocks,
Idris Muhammad,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Simply Red,
Minor Threat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ultravox,
Lindisfarne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
June of 44,
Lower 48,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Association,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joensuu 1685,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
Dennis Brown,
Juan Atkins,
Neu!,
Angry Samoans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Music Machine,
Barry Ungar,
Icehouse,
The Monochrome Set,
Josef K,
The Sisters of Mercy,
New Age Steppers,
the Bar-Kays,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
This Heat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lalann,
Nick Fraelich,
DJ Sneak,
Niagra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABBA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Germs,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.