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 Ecuador and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 KRS-One to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
Rekid,
Index,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Quantec,
The Divine Comedy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Little Man,
Essential Logic,
Cheater Slicks,
Mr. Review,
The Standells,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Quadrant,
Donny Hathaway,
John Holt,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Techniques,
The Skatalites,
Warsaw,
Frankie Knuckles,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Music Machine,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Litter,
Slick Rick,
Half Japanese,
Reuben Wilson,
B.T. Express,
Hardrive,
CMW,
DNA,
John Coltrane,
Ossler,
Newcleus,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun City Girls,
F. McDonald,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DJ Style,
Au Pairs,
Monolake,
Pylon,
Quando Quango,
Drexciya,
Peter and Kerry,
Das Ding,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aloha Tigers,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cowsills,
Massinfluence,
Tres Demented,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.