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 Libya and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes 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 In Retrospect to the rap 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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
The Last Poets,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fad Gadget,
The Cowsills,
Camouflage,
Aswad,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Pere Ubu,
The Angels of Light,
The Evens,
Ornette Coleman,
Henry Cow,
Essential Logic,
Niagra,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Velvet Underground,
Nas,
Mr. Review,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül,
Livin' Joy,
Agent Orange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Buckinghams,
Steve Hackett,
Mark Hollis,
Sun City Girls,
Radiohead,
Eddi Front,
Ponytail,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Maurizio,
Erasure,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Residents,
KRS-One,
Bronski Beat,
Tommy Roe,
Tubeway Army,
Andrew Hill,
The Leaves,
Gabor Szabo,
Panda Bear,
The Five Americans,
The Young Rascals,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wings,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Harmonia,
Brand Nubian,
Fluxion,
Ronan,
Colin Newman,
Vainqueur,
the Bar-Kays,
The Remains,
The Offenders,
The Doors,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.