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 Libya and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 8 Eyed Spy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Invisible,
The American Breed,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare,
The Birthday Party,
X-102,
Nils Olav,
Pagans,
Sight & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Quando Quango,
the Fania All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
Robert Görl,
Alice Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
The Gap Band,
Joyce Sims,
The Young Rascals,
Hardrive,
Newcleus,
La Düsseldorf,
Colin Newman,
Laurel Aitken,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Little Man,
Radio Birdman,
Japan,
The Mojo Men,
Supertramp,
D'Angelo,
Pussy Galore,
Mark Hollis,
Peter & Gordon,
Brick,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeru the Damaja,
Isaac Hayes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bill Near,
Bill Wells,
The Misunderstood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Funky Four + One,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sixth Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grauzone,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
New York Dolls,
Flipper,
Marmalade,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siglo XX,
Sandy B,
The Stooges,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.