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 Gabon and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Simply Red to the crunk 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronnie Foster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fire Engines,
Neil Young,
The Last Poets,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Monks,
Thompson Twins,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
Delta 5,
Qualms,
The Monks,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed,
CMW,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lucky Dragons,
Lyres,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glenn Branca,
Radio Birdman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Holt,
Toni Rubio,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
A Certain Ratio,
Pere Ubu,
Fela Kuti,
Soft Machine,
DNA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Seeds,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
48th St. Collective,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Glambeats Corp.,
Visage,
Jacob Miller,
Bob Dylan,
Silicon Teens,
Section 25,
Aloha Tigers,
June Days,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.