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 Azerbaijan and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 Lalo Schifrin 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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Dave Gahan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flash Fearless,
The Alarm Clocks,
Country Teasers,
the Normal,
The Vogues,
John Coltrane,
Franke,
The Move,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Vladislav Delay,
The Motions,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tim Buckley,
The Pretty Things,
Spoonie Gee,
Faust,
Yellowson,
Public Enemy,
Gang Starr,
Hardrive,
Arcadia,
Dennis Brown,
8 Eyed Spy,
Swell Maps,
The Black Dice,
Crispian St. Peters,
Morten Harket,
Heaven 17,
The Last Poets,
Gong,
the Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Anakelly,
the Germs,
Bang On A Can,
Tomorrow,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sparks,
These Immortal Souls,
Masters at Work,
Q and Not U,
Rosa Yemen,
Minutemen,
Al Stewart,
Bush Tetras,
Moss Icon,
Sight & Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Shuggie Otis,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bobby Sherman,
Sugar Minott,
the Sonics,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
Yusef Lateef,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.