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 Albania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 Darondo to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
the Bar-Kays,
Toni Rubio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Niagra,
Dead Boys,
Ossler,
The Litter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
Soft Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Evens,
Sällskapet,
The Fugs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Schoolly D,
Tres Demented,
The Searchers,
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Motorama,
Robert Hood,
Connie Case,
The Gories,
London Community Gospel Choir,
FM Einheit,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boredoms,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris Corsano,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
OOIOO,
Monks,
Masters at Work,
The Golliwogs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Anakelly,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Wyatt,
Alton Ellis,
Procol Harum,
Rekid,
The Five Americans,
Aural Exciters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pierre Henry,
Circle Jerks,
Smog,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fluxion,
Subhumans,
Joyce Sims,
Bob Dylan,
June Days,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.