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 Qatar and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Moby Grape to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Sarah Menescal,
Mission of Burma,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeru the Damaja,
Whodini,
Das Ding,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Sheep,
Zero Boys,
Nico,
Wings,
Gang of Four,
Dead Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
the Bar-Kays,
Hashim,
Newcleus,
Fat Boys,
Goldenarms,
DNA,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Bourne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fall,
China Crisis,
Hot Snakes,
Al Stewart,
Tears for Fears,
L. Decosne,
Khruangbin,
The Remains,
Kas Product,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Outsiders,
Ultra Naté,
Tres Demented,
Skriet,
Lower 48,
Simply Red,
Glambeats Corp.,
Q65,
Urselle,
Soul Sonic Force,
Charles Mingus,
Sandy B,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kevin Saunderson,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
Motorama,
Drexciya,
Soul II Soul,
Sugar Minott,
The Victims,
Connie Case,
Graham Central Station,
London Community Gospel Choir,
OOIOO,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.