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 Micronesia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 David Bowie 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 Human League to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Sam Rivers,
Godley & Creme,
Alison Limerick,
The Offenders,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joy Division,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Beau Brummels,
Main Source,
Judy Mowatt,
Fugazi,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Essential Logic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Spoonie Gee,
Cymande,
Man Parrish,
Y Pants,
The Smiths,
Nico,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skaos,
Kayak,
Unwound,
Henry Cow,
Sister Nancy,
FM Einheit,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang Green,
Charles Mingus,
Infiniti,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moebius,
Gichy Dan,
Anakelly,
Scan 7,
Arcadia,
Bronski Beat,
The Cowsills,
Fat Boys,
Zapp,
Yazoo,
Joey Negro,
Joe Smooth,
The Move,
Todd Terry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aswad,
Crime,
LL Cool J,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Zero Boys,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Sneak,
F. McDonald,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.