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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 48th St. Collective to the grime 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Al Stewart,
Neil Young,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roger Hodgson,
Albert Ayler,
Nik Kershaw,
Yusef Lateef,
Cal Tjader,
The Leaves,
Harmonia,
Schoolly D,
Traffic Nightmare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Steve Hackett,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barry Ungar,
Scion,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Drexciya,
Pet Shop Boys,
Second Layer,
Maleditus Sound,
Rapeman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stiv Bators,
John Coltrane,
Symarip,
Pantytec,
Sonny Sharrock,
Motorama,
Smog,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Agitation Free,
Slave,
The Cure,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Visage,
This Heat,
Sister Nancy,
The Red Krayola,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cymande,
Newcleus,
Porter Ricks,
Sight & Sound,
Chrome,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dennis Brown,
China Crisis,
Von Mondo,
Lucky Dragons,
Quando Quango,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Holt,
Sixth Finger,
The J.B.'s,
Ice-T,
Junior Murvin,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.