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 Kenya and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Absolute Body Control to the funk 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Brothers Johnson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Trojans,
The Fuzztones,
The Dirtbombs,
Maurizio,
Motorama,
T.S.O.L.,
The Searchers,
Marine Girls,
Urselle,
Animal Collective,
Soul II Soul,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pop Group,
Sonny Sharrock,
Morten Harket,
Bill Near,
Silicon Teens,
Pussy Galore,
Pagans,
Bobby Sherman,
D'Angelo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aural Exciters,
Sun Ra,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monks,
Masters at Work,
Soft Cell,
The Human League,
Roxy Music,
Rapeman,
JFA,
This Heat,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mojo Men,
Public Image Ltd.,
Whodini,
Kurtis Blow,
Suburban Knight,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Unrelated Segments,
Average White Band,
Darondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Max Romeo,
Fatback Band,
Dave Gahan,
X-101,
Danielle Patucci,
Chrome,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pulsallama,
The Gories,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.