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 Nicaragua and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Bill Near to the techno 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rekid,
Duran Duran,
Yazoo,
David Axelrod,
AZ,
Fluxion,
Bobby Sherman,
The Happenings,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kenny Larkin,
Nik Kershaw,
Ten City,
Deepchord,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barrington Levy,
Andrew Hill,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Animal Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
Masters at Work,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultimate Spinach,
A Certain Ratio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Second Layer,
Sparks,
Johnny Osbourne,
ABBA,
Supertramp,
JFA,
Organ,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gladiators,
Freddie Wadling,
Mr. Review,
Shuggie Otis,
Eddi Front,
Angry Samoans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roger Hodgson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Durutti Column,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bauhaus,
Crooked Eye,
Charles Mingus,
the Human League,
One Last Wish,
The Fortunes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Alice Coltrane,
Monolake,
Hoover,
Robert Hood,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.