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 Malawi and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Soulsonic Force to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
Anakelly,
Funkadelic,
Radio Birdman,
Cheater Slicks,
Lungfish,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
Rotary Connection,
Siglo XX,
Marvin Gaye,
The Mojo Men,
The J.B.'s,
PIL,
The Motions,
Das Ding,
Ituana,
Fad Gadget,
David Bowie,
Dawn Penn,
Jacques Brel,
T. Rex,
Radiohead,
Ice-T,
a-ha,
Nick Fraelich,
Sixth Finger,
Banda Bassotti,
ABBA,
Junior Murvin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
48th St. Collective,
Heaven 17,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rapeman,
Brand Nubian,
Fear,
Chrome,
Arthur Verocai,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick Morgan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deepchord,
Piero Umiliani,
Mr. Review,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oneida,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wasted Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flipper,
Bluetip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echospace,
Lalann,
Amon Düül II,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.