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 Korea North and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Warsaw to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-102,
Cecil Taylor,
Freddie Wadling,
Isaac Hayes,
The Real Kids,
Cymande,
Bang On A Can,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonny Sharrock,
8 Eyed Spy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Soft Cell,
Brass Construction,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grauzone,
Tears for Fears,
Kenny Larkin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Johnny Clarke,
Intrusion,
The Invisible,
AZ,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Saints,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Velvet Underground,
Blake Baxter,
Susan Cadogan,
Ponytail,
Franke,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Pus,
Guru Guru,
China Crisis,
Janne Schatter,
Josef K,
Sixth Finger,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Holt,
Saccharine Trust,
Sandy B,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Count Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Motions,
Icehouse,
Average White Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Eric Dolphy,
the Slits,
Magma,
DNA,
Eddi Front,
The Monochrome Set,
Little Man,
Sarah Menescal,
Sister Nancy,
The Slits,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.