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 Malawi and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
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 marimba 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Rod Modell,
Judy Mowatt,
Terrestrial Tones,
This Heat,
The Pretty Things,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mummies,
Mad Mike,
The Misunderstood,
DNA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
In Retrospect,
Altered Images,
Alton Ellis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Unrelated Segments,
The Neon Judgement,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Slick Rick,
Magma,
Yusef Lateef,
Tim Buckley,
Excepter,
Monks,
Young Marble Giants,
kango's stein massive,
Robert Görl,
Carl Craig,
Drexciya,
Nils Olav,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Shuggie Otis,
Donny Hathaway,
Angry Samoans,
Nick Fraelich,
Echospace,
Moebius,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Reagan Youth,
The Real Kids,
The Birthday Party,
The Barracudas,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Christie,
Fear,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scientists,
Bauhaus,
Warsaw,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gap Band,
The Victims,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.