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 India and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Blackbyrds to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
The Black Dice,
Underground Resistance,
B.T. Express,
Deepchord,
The Busters,
Bobby Womack,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man,
Darondo,
Mark Hollis,
Hashim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fatback Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Barbara Tucker,
Eli Mardock,
H. Thieme,
Drexciya,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Metal Thangz,
CMW,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Martian,
Alphaville,
Marshall Jefferson,
Toni Rubio,
Gabor Szabo,
Davy DMX,
Quadrant,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Oneida,
Sandy B,
The Cure,
Jawbox,
Joyce Sims,
Man Parrish,
Pole,
The New Christs,
Ronan,
Ludus,
The Monks,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
X-102,
EPMD,
Al Stewart,
Mr. Review,
Juan Atkins,
Michelle Simonal,
Soul II Soul,
Connie Case,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cluster,
Rekid,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.