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 Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 T. Rex 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pantaleimon,
The Angels of Light,
The Five Americans,
Tommy Roe,
Bad Manners,
Mantronix,
Slick Rick,
Procol Harum,
Little Man,
The Evens,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sandy B,
Pet Shop Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Smog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tears for Fears,
Animal Collective,
DNA,
MC5,
Boz Scaggs,
Los Fastidios,
Royal Trux,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Womack,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Quadrant,
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
Agitation Free,
Archie Shepp,
New Order,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sam Rivers,
Sixth Finger,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alice Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
James White and The Blacks,
Crash Course in Science,
New Age Steppers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Camouflage,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kerrie Biddell,
Darondo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rekid,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Vogues,
Ohio Players,
Con Funk Shun,
Pere Ubu,
Easy Going,
Quantec,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ken Boothe,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.