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 Lebanon and from New York.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 ABC to the punk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ornette Coleman,
Agent Orange,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marvin Gaye,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sound Behaviour,
The Techniques,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Normal,
T.S.O.L.,
Blancmange,
The Durutti Column,
Liliput,
Young Marble Giants,
Eli Mardock,
Gabor Szabo,
DNA,
Main Source,
Nas,
Yaz,
Yusef Lateef,
Cheater Slicks,
The Star Department,
UT,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nils Olav,
Sällskapet,
Bang On A Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Residents,
Thee Headcoats,
The Trojans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lower 48,
Crooked Eye,
Danielle Patucci,
ABBA,
Masters at Work,
Nirvana,
Groovy Waters,
The Blues Magoos,
Rekid,
X-101,
The Cowsills,
Roger Hodgson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
Funkadelic,
Panda Bear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Beau Brummels,
Harmonia,
The Misunderstood,
Quantec,
Quando Quango,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Music Machine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wire,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.