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 Kyrgyzstan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 electroclash 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
The American Breed,
Robert Wyatt,
The Young Rascals,
Thee Headcoats,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultravox,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minnie Riperton,
Stiv Bators,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy Collins,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Osbourne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Silicon Teens,
Electric Prunes,
Malaria!,
Make Up,
The Litter,
Ultra Naté,
The Selecter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Whodini,
The Electric Prunes,
Masters at Work,
Prince Buster,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Intrusion,
Livin' Joy,
The United States of America,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aloha Tigers,
The Kinks,
Mad Mike,
Half Japanese,
The Blackbyrds,
Amon Düül,
Liliput,
The Cosmic Jokers,
10cc,
Derrick Morgan,
Lyres,
Gabor Szabo,
Symarip,
The Modern Lovers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Spoonie Gee,
Alison Limerick,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
The Doors,
Tom Boy,
Surgeon,
Scratch Acid,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.