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 Morocco and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Clear Light to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Skriet,
Suicide,
These Immortal Souls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Flag,
Angry Samoans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chrome,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fall,
Davy DMX,
Chris Corsano,
The Fugs,
Absolute Body Control,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mandrill,
Audionom,
Gerry Rafferty,
New York Dolls,
Archie Shepp,
Scrapy,
Barrington Levy,
Sex Pistols,
Amazonics,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rapeman,
Bluetip,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
Bronski Beat,
Q and Not U,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
Brand Nubian,
The Names,
Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun City Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Blossom Toes,
Wings,
The Gun Club,
Tom Boy,
Wally Richardson,
Adolescents,
Sarah Menescal,
Flipper,
Young Marble Giants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Henry Cow,
Joe Smooth,
Blancmange,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.