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 Gambia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Bush Tetras to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Angry Samoans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Germs,
Spandau Ballet,
John Cale,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun Ra,
The Offenders,
Ossler,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Wyatt,
Minny Pops,
Sparks,
Jawbox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grauzone,
Intrusion,
Black Flag,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lalo Schifrin,
One Last Wish,
Stereo Dub,
Shuggie Otis,
Jeff Lynne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Osbourne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
Toni Rubio,
Roger Hodgson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kas Product,
Eli Mardock,
R.M.O.,
Al Stewart,
Darondo,
Second Layer,
Nirvana,
Fear,
The Divine Comedy,
CMW,
Slick Rick,
Inner City,
Aaron Thompson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gladiators,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Sherman,
Y Pants,
Khruangbin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.