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 Antigua and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the grunge 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
Little Man,
Johnny Clarke,
Agent Orange,
The Misunderstood,
Michelle Simonal,
Grauzone,
Scrapy,
Graham Central Station,
Au Pairs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mantronix,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Malaria!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crooked Eye,
the Slits,
Dead Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Stereo Dub,
Siglo XX,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed,
Kayak,
Index,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Beau Brummels,
Absolute Body Control,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scratch Acid,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arthur Verocai,
Ossler,
Aswad,
Rakim,
John Coltrane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ludus,
Cameo,
Blancmange,
Warsaw,
Barry Ungar,
Whodini,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brand Nubian,
Sugar Minott,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Toni Rubio,
Youth Brigade,
Qualms,
Silicon Teens,
Echospace,
Blake Baxter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blues Magoos,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.