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 Israel and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Ponytail to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
Prince Buster,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Al Stewart,
Scion,
Todd Terry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Bar-Kays,
Funky Four + One,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quando Quango,
Radiohead,
Circle Jerks,
The Gap Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pet Shop Boys,
Schoolly D,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
MDC,
Arthur Verocai,
Electric Prunes,
Vainqueur,
The Music Machine,
The Offenders,
Wings,
Public Enemy,
Make Up,
Black Pus,
Siglo XX,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sight & Sound,
The Standells,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
The Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Quantec,
Excepter,
Anakelly,
Roger Hodgson,
U.S. Maple,
Silicon Teens,
KRS-One,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Vogues,
Severed Heads,
Livin' Joy,
Jacques Brel,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oblivians,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Clarke,
The Raincoats,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.