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 Bolivia and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang of Four to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Todd Terry,
Panda Bear,
Stiv Bators,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Velvet Underground,
Electric Prunes,
The Mummies,
Procol Harum,
Fugazi,
The Gladiators,
the Association,
Hasil Adkins,
David Bowie,
Fad Gadget,
Country Teasers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
L. Decosne,
Niagra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sex Pistols,
Reuben Wilson,
Sarah Menescal,
Joe Smooth,
Los Fastidios,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
Wings,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jerry's Kids,
Scion,
Main Source,
Gang Green,
Cecil Taylor,
Japan,
Underground Resistance,
Nico,
Excepter,
These Immortal Souls,
Todd Rundgren,
Rotary Connection,
Symarip,
Archie Shepp,
Michelle Simonal,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Wyatt,
Supertramp,
Dennis Brown,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tom Boy,
The Buckinghams,
The Last Poets,
Darondo,
The Young Rascals,
The Dirtbombs,
Oblivians,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Slits,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.