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 Italy and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crooked Eye 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
The Move,
Cameo,
Steve Hackett,
The Walker Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
Sparks,
Gabor Szabo,
Funkadelic,
Hashim,
Black Bananas,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Amazonics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
David Axelrod,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Animal Collective,
The Evens,
Half Japanese,
One Last Wish,
Radio Birdman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Archie Shepp,
Lower 48,
John Coltrane,
Blake Baxter,
Jeff Lynne,
Tres Demented,
Angry Samoans,
Pulsallama,
The Victims,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brass Construction,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kurtis Blow,
Roy Ayers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
kango's stein massive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Main Source,
Tim Buckley,
The Leaves,
Au Pairs,
X-102,
Black Flag,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fire Engines,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Starr,
The Index,
10cc,
the Normal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
The American Breed,
Bobby Byrd,
Rosa Yemen,
Mad Mike,
James White and The Blacks,
H. Thieme,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.