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 Iran and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 ABC to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Lyres,
AZ,
Gang Starr,
Supertramp,
Cal Tjader,
Aural Exciters,
Smog,
Das Ding,
Kenny Larkin,
Joy Division,
Eric Dolphy,
Rapeman,
Rotary Connection,
Minutemen,
Underground Resistance,
the Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
The Wake,
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
Crime,
X-Ray Spex,
Jacob Miller,
Brick,
the Normal,
Barrington Levy,
X-101,
10cc,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Susan Cadogan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gladiators,
Babytalk,
Matthew Bourne,
Negative Approach,
Youth Brigade,
Scan 7,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Derrick Morgan,
MC5,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Bananas,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Von Mondo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
Rites of Spring,
The Fugs,
Dual Sessions,
Saccharine Trust,
Sam Rivers,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.