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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Robert Wyatt to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Masters at Work,
Alison Limerick,
Don Cherry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radio Birdman,
Fear,
The Last Poets,
Lightning Bolt,
Funky Four + One,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
E-Dancer,
Marvin Gaye,
The Human League,
Magazine,
Oneida,
Cameo,
Khruangbin,
Rod Modell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mr. Review,
Zero Boys,
Soft Machine,
Lou Christie,
Lower 48,
The Blues Magoos,
Cluster,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Al Stewart,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wire,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suicide,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sparks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
In Retrospect,
The Doors,
Black Pus,
the Normal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Royal Trux,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Man Parrish,
Y Pants,
Altered Images,
Eurythmics,
Newcleus,
Skriet,
The Cowsills,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Gun Club,
The Raincoats,
X-101,
The Pop Group,
Main Source,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.