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 Morocco and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 David Bowie 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 Max Romeo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
AZ,
Infiniti,
Unwound,
Motorama,
Mo-Dettes,
DNA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Deadbeat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crispy Ambulance,
Make Up,
Erykah Badu,
the Association,
Charles Mingus,
Pierre Henry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Hood,
Flipper,
Idris Muhammad,
The Music Machine,
Roxette,
Scan 7,
Matthew Halsall,
Pere Ubu,
Sonic Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dirtbombs,
Faust,
Ice-T,
Drive Like Jehu,
James White and The Blacks,
The Red Krayola,
The Moody Blues,
Wally Richardson,
Todd Terry,
Chris & Cosey,
Morten Harket,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Harmonia,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amazonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Görl,
The Index,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
K-Klass,
Altered Images,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.