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 Kuwait and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Babytalk to the crunk 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Connie Case,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hashim,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Trojans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
R.M.O.,
Dennis Brown,
Deepchord,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Quantec,
New Age Steppers,
Quadrant,
Sex Pistols,
Outsiders,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kayak,
Stetsasonic,
Scratch Acid,
Sexual Harrassment,
Prince Buster,
Hoover,
Wire,
Babytalk,
Moss Icon,
Scientists,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pole,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Coltrane,
Liliput,
Marc Almond,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DNA,
The New Christs,
Oblivians,
Alison Limerick,
Iggy Pop,
Fela Kuti,
Inner City,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Raincoats,
Porter Ricks,
X-Ray Spex,
Faraquet,
Scan 7,
Underground Resistance,
AZ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Al Stewart,
B.T. Express,
Rites of Spring,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.