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 Lesotho and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord 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 John Coltrane to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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,
The Standells,
Boredoms,
John Holt,
The Searchers,
Blancmange,
Monks,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doors,
Juan Atkins,
Warren Ellis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arcadia,
The Monochrome Set,
Blossom Toes,
Pussy Galore,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Henry Cow,
Isaac Hayes,
Tubeway Army,
June of 44,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Victims,
Donald Byrd,
The Sound,
Heaven 17,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Reagan Youth,
John Cale,
Funkadelic,
Black Sheep,
Ice-T,
The Gories,
Ken Boothe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Zapp,
The Sonics,
Yaz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Happenings,
China Crisis,
Leonard Cohen,
Patti Smith,
Skaos,
Ultra Naté,
Bronski Beat,
Man Parrish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Public Enemy,
Alton Ellis,
Schoolly D,
Barrington Levy,
A Certain Ratio,
Magazine,
Infiniti,
Pagans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Christie,
Inner City,
Brass Construction,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.