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 Zimbabwe and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Aloha Tigers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Leonard Cohen,
Aural Exciters,
Gang of Four,
Anthony Braxton,
Stockholm Monsters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Andrew Hill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Kinks,
Talk Talk,
Lyres,
L. Decosne,
Maleditus Sound,
Sight & Sound,
Rapeman,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Sherman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Goldenarms,
Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
Mad Mike,
Wings,
Pylon,
The Walker Brothers,
Television,
MDC,
Black Sheep,
Sister Nancy,
Minutemen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Barracudas,
Black Moon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amon Düül II,
Peter and Kerry,
Little Man,
Ultra Naté,
June of 44,
The Seeds,
Niagra,
Tears for Fears,
Procol Harum,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Q65,
Boz Scaggs,
Ornette Coleman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Archie Shepp,
Bob Dylan,
Sun Ra,
Danielle Patucci,
Scan 7,
The Doors,
The American Breed,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mojo Men,
Mark Hollis,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.