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 Benin and from Bologna.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Boogie Down Productions to the jazz 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Harry Pussy,
Faraquet,
Eurythmics,
Flipper,
Fela Kuti,
The Red Krayola,
Jacob Miller,
Rufus Thomas,
Slave,
Dual Sessions,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Kinks,
the Germs,
Public Enemy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
EPMD,
Kerri Chandler,
Albert Ayler,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Near,
Tropical Tobacco,
Howard Jones,
Wolf Eyes,
Icehouse,
Sparks,
Thee Headcoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Maurizio,
Sandy B,
Funkadelic,
Pierre Henry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Tremeloes,
The Martian,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
The Dirtbombs,
Janne Schatter,
The Misunderstood,
Can,
Minor Threat,
Scan 7,
The Electric Prunes,
Smog,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fat Boys,
Simply Red,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brick,
Joey Negro,
The Evens,
Ten City,
Don Cherry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dawn Penn,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.