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 Cameroon and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Mad Mike to the crunk 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Sun Ra,
Rod Modell,
Boz Scaggs,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Crime,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Magazine,
T. Rex,
Cecil Taylor,
Howard Jones,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Morten Harket,
Quando Quango,
Bill Wells,
Smog,
The Gun Club,
Reagan Youth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eddi Front,
The Blues Magoos,
The Index,
The Last Poets,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Goldenarms,
Monks,
Funky Four + One,
AZ,
Ice-T,
Cybotron,
Simply Red,
Sonny Sharrock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers,
John Cale,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
China Crisis,
Fugazi,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kaleidoscope,
Minny Pops,
Jerry's Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Warsaw,
Jawbox,
A Certain Ratio,
The Angels of Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
Siglo XX,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yusef Lateef,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Raincoats,
Pierre Henry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.