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 Latvia 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Bush Tetras to the grunge 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Howard Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
PIL,
H. Thieme,
Tears for Fears,
Tres Demented,
Nirvana,
Nik Kershaw,
Nas,
Television,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amon Düül II,
The Walker Brothers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Suicide,
Masters at Work,
the Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pantytec,
Drexciya,
New Age Steppers,
Fela Kuti,
The Count Five,
Arab on Radar,
The Sound,
Slave,
Royal Trux,
Chris Corsano,
Mad Mike,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Half Japanese,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
London Community Gospel Choir,
CMW,
Bronski Beat,
ABC,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Mummies,
Bob Dylan,
The Velvet Underground,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Terry,
Mr. Review,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Camberwell Now,
The Vogues,
Cluster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Wolf Eyes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Metal Thangz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Andrew Hill,
Al Stewart,
Sun City Girls,
Fat Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Parry Music,
Adolescents,
The Dirtbombs,
Negative Approach,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.