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 Cuba and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
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 clarinet 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 The Alarm Clocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Gong,
Mission of Burma,
Cybotron,
Yellowson,
Sarah Menescal,
Stetsasonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Charles Mingus,
Grey Daturas,
Technova,
Sound Behaviour,
Nik Kershaw,
Banda Bassotti,
Johnny Osbourne,
Alphaville,
The Offenders,
The Pretty Things,
The Zeros,
The Fugs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Underground Resistance,
The Velvet Underground,
Kas Product,
Brothers Johnson,
Danielle Patucci,
Joe Smooth,
Arab on Radar,
Young Marble Giants,
Oblivians,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Coltrane,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Electric Prunes,
Marmalade,
Thee Headcoats,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars,
Siglo XX,
Black Flag,
Minor Threat,
Inner City,
Mr. Review,
Ultravox,
Bobby Byrd,
Maurizio,
Heaven 17,
Crash Course in Science,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monochrome Set,
Lyres,
Blossom Toes,
Q and Not U,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barrington Levy,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Techniques,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.