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 Uzbekistan and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stiv Bators to the grime 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
The Standells,
Fluxion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Audionom,
Kevin Saunderson,
Intrusion,
Television,
X-Ray Spex,
Darondo,
Scion,
D'Angelo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Angels of Light,
Minor Threat,
Royal Trux,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
MC5,
Arcadia,
Jimmy McGriff,
Motorama,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Altered Images,
Grauzone,
Chrome,
Joyce Sims,
Tropical Tobacco,
Delon & Dalcan,
Youth Brigade,
Tubeway Army,
Guru Guru,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Near,
The Blackbyrds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nirvana,
New Order,
Spoonie Gee,
B.T. Express,
The Neon Judgement,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun City Girls,
Pagans,
Donald Byrd,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minny Pops,
The Doors,
The Five Americans,
Ossler,
World's Most,
Roxette,
Soul II Soul,
Morten Harket,
The Slits,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moody Blues,
Isaac Hayes,
Wally Richardson,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.