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 Indonesia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
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 snare 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 In Retrospect to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron 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 arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Bizarre Inc.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Wake,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marcia Griffiths,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Zero Boys,
Erasure,
Sarah Menescal,
Hot Snakes,
Joy Division,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nas,
The Cure,
Todd Rundgren,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Modern Lovers,
Barry Ungar,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Soft Cell,
the Slits,
Jeff Mills,
Tommy Roe,
New York Dolls,
The Monochrome Set,
Quadrant,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Metal Thangz,
Groovy Waters,
Hashim,
A Certain Ratio,
Whodini,
CMW,
Theoretical Girls,
Chrome,
Rites of Spring,
The Mojo Men,
U.S. Maple,
The Grass Roots,
Duran Duran,
Gang Starr,
Jacob Miller,
Inner City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pagans,
Wings,
Ultravox,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gap Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harmonia,
Japan,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.