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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Associates to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Real Kids,
Deepchord,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dirtbombs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Last Poets,
Carl Craig,
Slick Rick,
Oblivians,
Stetsasonic,
Ultravox,
Ronan,
Severed Heads,
Fugazi,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry's Kids,
The Walker Brothers,
The Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
Flash Fearless,
Kurtis Blow,
Tears for Fears,
Oneida,
Trumans Water,
The Mojo Men,
Gichy Dan,
Theoretical Girls,
The Human League,
The Cramps,
The Fuzztones,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Flag,
The Residents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sister Nancy,
The Techniques,
Ornette Coleman,
Circle Jerks,
Kaleidoscope,
Index,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sight & Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yazoo,
Letta Mbulu,
Deakin,
Freddie Wadling,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arab on Radar,
The Zeros,
Man Parrish,
the Slits,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.