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 Comoros and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Blackbyrds to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Blues Magoos,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Electric Prunes,
Erykah Badu,
Dark Day,
Technova,
Circle Jerks,
Stetsasonic,
The Tremeloes,
Icehouse,
Angry Samoans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Young Marble Giants,
The Stooges,
Shoche,
Marshall Jefferson,
David Axelrod,
Gong,
MDC,
Neil Young,
Malaria!,
The Move,
The Fortunes,
Franke,
Make Up,
Letta Mbulu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Delta 5,
Massinfluence,
Danielle Patucci,
Motorama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pussy Galore,
The Human League,
Siglo XX,
The Dead C,
Tom Boy,
Brand Nubian,
Cecil Taylor,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Aswad,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sound,
Deadbeat,
Moss Icon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Half Japanese,
Niagra,
China Crisis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tommy Roe,
The Gladiators,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mojo Men,
Gichy Dan,
Cameo,
The Slackers,
Aaron Thompson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.