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 Panama and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet 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 Terry Callier to the crunk 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Iggy Pop,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
Soul II Soul,
Radiopuhelimet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Infiniti,
The Evens,
Black Flag,
Dave Gahan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Sheep,
the Swans,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobby Womack,
The Blues Magoos,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blake Baxter,
Mr. Review,
Arcadia,
Tears for Fears,
Agitation Free,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eurythmics,
Roger Hodgson,
Outsiders,
Idris Muhammad,
Ponytail,
Jacob Miller,
Monks,
Dennis Brown,
LL Cool J,
Byron Stingily,
Stockholm Monsters,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quadrant,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moebius,
Clear Light,
Thee Headcoats,
Yellowson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Buzzcocks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mo-Dettes,
The J.B.'s,
Dual Sessions,
Darondo,
Silicon Teens,
Negative Approach,
Gabor Szabo,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.