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 Dominica and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yellowson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aural Exciters,
Bootsy Collins,
Letta Mbulu,
The Young Rascals,
Lakeside,
MDC,
Sun Ra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Metal Thangz,
Alice Coltrane,
Con Funk Shun,
The Pop Group,
Freddie Wadling,
Newcleus,
Ice-T,
Dennis Brown,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pussy Galore,
Scientists,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scratch Acid,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ornette Coleman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
DJ Style,
Chrome,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
Blossom Toes,
Excepter,
Al Stewart,
Gang Green,
Todd Rundgren,
Brass Construction,
Altered Images,
The Sonics,
Parry Music,
Livin' Joy,
Adolescents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nils Olav,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Malaria!,
The Angels of Light,
Little Man,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tres Demented,
The Trojans,
Moby Grape,
Ludus,
Bush Tetras,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unrelated Segments,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Supertramp,
Whodini,
Procol Harum,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.