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 Bahrain and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Crash Course in Science to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slackers,
Essential Logic,
Terry Callier,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Max Romeo,
Franke,
Funkadelic,
10cc,
Ponytail,
Livin' Joy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Section 25,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Malaria!,
The Modern Lovers,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
The Standells,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brand Nubian,
F. McDonald,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Animal Collective,
Janne Schatter,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Victims,
Tears for Fears,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultravox,
Ludus,
Alison Limerick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
Lucky Dragons,
Tubeway Army,
The Smiths,
Jeff Mills,
Nik Kershaw,
Heaven 17,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ohio Players,
Barrington Levy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soft Machine,
Jeff Lynne,
Alphaville,
Neu!,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monochrome Set,
DJ Sneak,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.