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 Sierra Leone and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sex Pistols,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Model 500,
The Pop Group,
Ornette Coleman,
The Smoke,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unrelated Segments,
Rosa Yemen,
DNA,
The Saints,
Sixth Finger,
Q and Not U,
Minny Pops,
Alton Ellis,
Bluetip,
Ludus,
The Selecter,
Barry Ungar,
The Moleskins,
Grauzone,
Reuben Wilson,
Average White Band,
Darondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Agent Orange,
The Modern Lovers,
La Düsseldorf,
Blancmange,
Skriet,
Bill Wells,
Television,
Junior Murvin,
Eden Ahbez,
Loose Ends,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Skarface,
Rod Modell,
Wire,
Robert Wyatt,
Dave Gahan,
Pulsallama,
Bill Near,
Aswad,
Au Pairs,
Parry Music,
The Knickerbockers,
Malaria!,
Bobby Sherman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
Janne Schatter,
Neu!,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vladislav Delay,
Drive Like Jehu,
Public Enemy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.