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 Argentina and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gerry Rafferty to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Royal Trux,
Prince Buster,
Spoonie Gee,
Sonic Youth,
Crime,
Livin' Joy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James White and The Blacks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
The Sound,
Accadde A,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Liliput,
Black Pus,
Stiv Bators,
Boogie Down Productions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultravox,
Wally Richardson,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Names,
Ten City,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fugazi,
Jerry's Kids,
Loose Ends,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Alarm Clocks,
Supertramp,
T.S.O.L.,
Yellowson,
The Martian,
E-Dancer,
Jeff Mills,
Agitation Free,
Brothers Johnson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Anakelly,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moby Grape,
Sam Rivers,
Eden Ahbez,
Country Teasers,
Saccharine Trust,
Harmonia,
Howard Jones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Cale,
Eurythmics,
Drexciya,
The Pop Group,
Stetsasonic,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.