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 Denmark and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Adolescents to the electroclash 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Procol Harum,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eurythmics,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Kaleidoscope,
Idris Muhammad,
The Modern Lovers,
Flipper,
the Fania All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Darondo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Martian,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Wells,
Alison Limerick,
Monks,
Section 25,
Isaac Hayes,
Tubeway Army,
ABC,
Buzzcocks,
World's Most,
David McCallum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soul II Soul,
Magazine,
Youth Brigade,
The Remains,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sound,
Hardrive,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Germs,
Lightning Bolt,
Popol Vuh,
Eden Ahbez,
Barbara Tucker,
Cameo,
Fat Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Mandrill,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joe Finger,
Fugazi,
Sex Pistols,
Andrew Hill,
Dawn Penn,
Hasil Adkins,
Janne Schatter,
Graham Central Station,
Sister Nancy,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.