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 Cuba and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Big Daddy Kane to the funk 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stereo Dub,
D'Angelo,
Niagra,
The Index,
Wire,
F. McDonald,
Dave Gahan,
The Music Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
Smog,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
FM Einheit,
Deadbeat,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Star Department,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stiv Bators,
Inner City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crime,
The Grass Roots,
Jacques Brel,
The Evens,
Roxette,
Brick,
Half Japanese,
The Remains,
Second Layer,
Suicide,
Black Flag,
Marmalade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bootsy Collins,
Absolute Body Control,
Soulsonic Force,
Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Starr,
Nirvana,
Arab on Radar,
The Move,
The Pretty Things,
Whodini,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
Dead Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Minny Pops,
The Cure,
Theoretical Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Tremeloes,
Roy Ayers,
Chris & Cosey,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.