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 China and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sun Ra Arkestra 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mojo Men,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Franke,
Masters at Work,
Monolake,
E-Dancer,
the Association,
Ohio Players,
The Dead C,
Jerry Gold Smith,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cybotron,
Unwound,
Johnny Clarke,
Mission of Burma,
Marvin Gaye,
The Golliwogs,
Rhythm & Sound,
L. Decosne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soul II Soul,
Fat Boys,
Minny Pops,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hoover,
Avey Tare,
Visage,
The Gladiators,
Cecil Taylor,
Sällskapet,
Dave Gahan,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minutemen,
Underground Resistance,
Surgeon,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bronski Beat,
The Slackers,
Amon Düül,
Gong,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joyce Sims,
John Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
Eden Ahbez,
Audionom,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Von Mondo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Tremeloes,
EPMD,
Delta 5,
Youth Brigade,
Wasted Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Lungfish,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.