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 Cyprus and from London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Minny Pops to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Rapeman,
Josef K,
Crispy Ambulance,
Symarip,
Minutemen,
The Divine Comedy,
The Last Poets,
Sarah Menescal,
Pere Ubu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Procol Harum,
Deakin,
Brass Construction,
Harpers Bizarre,
ABC,
Bootsy Collins,
Joe Finger,
The Star Department,
Dawn Penn,
Sun Ra,
Q65,
Rod Modell,
Sandy B,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Swans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wasted Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Jacob Miller,
Icehouse,
Ralphi Rosario,
Byron Stingily,
Minor Threat,
The Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Sherman,
Royal Trux,
Yaz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Young Marble Giants,
Smog,
Cecil Taylor,
Don Cherry,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
John Holt,
Warsaw,
Neu!,
Dead Boys,
E-Dancer,
Echospace,
Franke,
Quantec,
kango's stein massive,
Althea and Donna,
The Young Rascals,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultra Naté,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.