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 Sweden 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the crunk 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
The Walker Brothers,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Slits,
Subhumans,
Bronski Beat,
Fat Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
Joey Negro,
Simply Red,
Roxy Music,
the Swans,
Ohio Players,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Fania All-Stars,
B.T. Express,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Moleskins,
June Days,
Tommy Roe,
Black Sheep,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
F. McDonald,
Scrapy,
Quadrant,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Leaves,
Accadde A,
Rosa Yemen,
The Litter,
Albert Ayler,
Terry Callier,
Fad Gadget,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Yellowson,
Dark Day,
Harry Pussy,
David Axelrod,
Mo-Dettes,
Bob Dylan,
Rod Modell,
Suicide,
World's Most,
The Cowsills,
Boz Scaggs,
Alton Ellis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Wells,
Barry Ungar,
Crash Course in Science,
Urselle,
The Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rufus Thomas,
Masters at Work,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.