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 South Sudan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the electroclash 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Blues Magoos,
Deakin,
David McCallum,
EPMD,
Wally Richardson,
Dawn Penn,
Sandy B,
Theoretical Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
UT,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hot Snakes,
The Last Poets,
Rakim,
Suicide,
Crash Course in Science,
Stiv Bators,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gap Band,
Archie Shepp,
Con Funk Shun,
Qualms,
Rosa Yemen,
Bronski Beat,
Sonic Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Boz Scaggs,
Brass Construction,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alison Limerick,
The Victims,
Lucky Dragons,
Mission of Burma,
Sonny Sharrock,
Agent Orange,
D'Angelo,
Anakelly,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Moon,
The Flesh Eaters,
ABC,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pussy Galore,
Tom Boy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxette,
Josef K,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Vainqueur,
Mad Mike,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kenny Larkin,
The Trojans,
The Mojo Men,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
One Last Wish,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.