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 Russia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Michael McDonald 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 June Days to the funk 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sällskapet,
Mars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tears for Fears,
Jawbox,
The Zeros,
The Seeds,
Sugar Minott,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Underground Resistance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Derrick Morgan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stereo Dub,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fluxion,
Barbara Tucker,
Essential Logic,
Surgeon,
The Mojo Men,
The Standells,
David Bowie,
Niagra,
The Modern Lovers,
Blancmange,
The Wake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Amazonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry's Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Machine,
The Smoke,
The Monks,
Deadbeat,
Kerri Chandler,
Loose Ends,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Unwound,
Roxette,
Electric Prunes,
Jandek,
Reagan Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Goldenarms,
Freddie Wadling,
EPMD,
Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Livin' Joy,
X-101,
Eli Mardock,
Parry Music,
Crash Course in Science,
the Swans,
Theoretical Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Scan 7,
Gang Gang Dance,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.