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 Kiribati and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Star Department 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Zapp,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Sound,
Brand Nubian,
The Gories,
Ice-T,
Altered Images,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Guru Guru,
the Swans,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liliput,
Roger Hodgson,
B.T. Express,
Lee Hazlewood,
Adolescents,
Underground Resistance,
Technova,
Whodini,
Crooked Eye,
Bronski Beat,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Carl Craig,
The Names,
The Black Dice,
Mad Mike,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hot Snakes,
Barrington Levy,
Fat Boys,
Japan,
Fluxion,
Q and Not U,
Mantronix,
Niagra,
Aural Exciters,
China Crisis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Donald Byrd,
Boz Scaggs,
Brothers Johnson,
The Young Rascals,
Duran Duran,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ossler,
Main Source,
Josef K,
Lyres,
Boredoms,
The Last Poets,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Organ,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maurizio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.