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 Gambia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 Agent Orange to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Siglo XX,
The Black Dice,
The American Breed,
Pulsallama,
Radio Birdman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nick Fraelich,
CMW,
Essential Logic,
Saccharine Trust,
The J.B.'s,
Jeff Lynne,
Prince Buster,
Bobbi Humphrey,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soft Cell,
Icehouse,
Echospace,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxy Music,
Aloha Tigers,
Rapeman,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fad Gadget,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brand Nubian,
Ohio Players,
The Dave Clark Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
Amon Düül,
Gang Starr,
The Electric Prunes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Donald Byrd,
the Soft Cell,
Black Bananas,
Minnie Riperton,
Fugazi,
the Fania All-Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Godley & Creme,
Gerry Rafferty,
K-Klass,
Gang of Four,
Robert Wyatt,
AZ,
Sam Rivers,
Unrelated Segments,
Stiv Bators,
Popol Vuh,
Fat Boys,
Nirvana,
Silicon Teens,
Procol Harum,
Moss Icon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.