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 Costa Rica and from Portland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Absolute Body Control to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Mr. Review,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Country Teasers,
Zapp,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
Darondo,
Can,
Pulsallama,
Arthur Verocai,
Gabor Szabo,
Rakim,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Wells,
The Fugs,
Ponytail,
Grey Daturas,
Amazonics,
Soft Cell,
The Cramps,
Model 500,
The Searchers,
The Techniques,
Iggy Pop,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bootsy Collins,
Simply Red,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dark Day,
R.M.O.,
Malaria!,
Inner City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DJ Style,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Knickerbockers,
Talk Talk,
Joe Smooth,
Con Funk Shun,
MDC,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Intrusion,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Barracudas,
The Monochrome Set,
Alison Limerick,
Flash Fearless,
Hashim,
Minor Threat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Lydon,
Silicon Teens,
Swell Maps,
Kaleidoscope,
The Doors,
Underground Resistance,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Walker Brothers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.