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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Subhumans to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
The United States of America,
Moebius,
Lalann,
Spoonie Gee,
Magazine,
Liliput,
Dual Sessions,
LL Cool J,
Joey Negro,
Aloha Tigers,
The Selecter,
Sun Ra,
The Motions,
Stereo Dub,
New York Dolls,
Malaria!,
Sam Rivers,
Fluxion,
Warren Ellis,
Schoolly D,
Interpol,
Brass Construction,
The Gladiators,
Arcadia,
Roger Hodgson,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minutemen,
Neil Young,
Bobby Sherman,
Infiniti,
Rakim,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-102,
Sound Behaviour,
Colin Newman,
EPMD,
New Order,
the Swans,
Theoretical Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Hashim,
Leonard Cohen,
Masters at Work,
Simply Red,
Donald Byrd,
The Cowsills,
Buzzcocks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dirtbombs,
Newcleus,
ABBA,
Joensuu 1685,
Cybotron,
The Zeros,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ituana,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.