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 Bulgaria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 The Moody Blues to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Pierre Henry,
Ice-T,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
Nas,
The Slits,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Loose Ends,
Neil Young,
Jimmy McGriff,
Vladislav Delay,
Minny Pops,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tubeway Army,
Ten City,
Lungfish,
Lyres,
Eurythmics,
Ponytail,
Y Pants,
Arcadia,
The Saints,
Angry Samoans,
The Fuzztones,
The Dirtbombs,
Crooked Eye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
U.S. Maple,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
Depeche Mode,
Cecil Taylor,
The American Breed,
Au Pairs,
Silicon Teens,
F. McDonald,
Mark Hollis,
Subhumans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Rites of Spring,
The Slackers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Glambeats Corp.,
Alice Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Leonard Cohen,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mantronix,
Liliput,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.