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 Haiti and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
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 Rosa Yemen to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Graham Central Station,
Henry Cow,
Man Parrish,
Adolescents,
Rosa Yemen,
June Days,
Peter and Kerry,
Scientists,
Intrusion,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Wake,
The Shadows of Knight,
Matthew Halsall,
Ronan,
Mo-Dettes,
Quando Quango,
Deepchord,
Funky Four + One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cure,
Severed Heads,
The Pretty Things,
Mary Jane Girls,
World's Most,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Byrd,
Blancmange,
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ronnie Foster,
Visage,
Brick,
New York Dolls,
Sandy B,
Faraquet,
The Sonics,
Y Pants,
Sällskapet,
David Bowie,
Dual Sessions,
Johnny Osbourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The United States of America,
Alton Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
Traffic Nightmare,
Television,
Underground Resistance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brothers Johnson,
Goldenarms,
Dark Day,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Busters,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.