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 Armenia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Siglo XX to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blossom Toes,
Surgeon,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Hood,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
FM Einheit,
Peter & Gordon,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Parrish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Intrusion,
Letta Mbulu,
Amon Düül II,
Howard Jones,
Rites of Spring,
The Smiths,
Excepter,
The Misunderstood,
Main Source,
Joyce Sims,
The Fuzztones,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry's Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Gabor Szabo,
Whodini,
The Gories,
Minnie Riperton,
Byron Stingily,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Young Rascals,
Fela Kuti,
The Cramps,
Jeru the Damaja,
New Age Steppers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Alphaville,
Todd Terry,
Mad Mike,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bronski Beat,
Stiv Bators,
The Grass Roots,
Gang of Four,
Absolute Body Control,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
Deepchord,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mandrill,
Monolake,
Neil Young,
Ponytail,
Jacob Miller,
Wire,
Outsiders,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.