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 El Salvador and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Blancmange to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Reed,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terry Callier,
Whodini,
Donald Byrd,
Black Flag,
D'Angelo,
Juan Atkins,
Animal Collective,
The Velvet Underground,
Massinfluence,
Franke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Clarke,
The Remains,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Selecter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Man Parrish,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
Panda Bear,
OOIOO,
Loose Ends,
Freddie Wadling,
Minny Pops,
The Martian,
Technova,
Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
Harry Pussy,
Black Bananas,
Kerri Chandler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lakeside,
Pere Ubu,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wally Richardson,
Connie Case,
K-Klass,
The Dirtbombs,
the Swans,
The Saints,
Bob Dylan,
Bush Tetras,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mummies,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tres Demented,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Scratch Acid,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.