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 Iraq and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 the Fania All-Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
The Kinks,
James White and The Blacks,
Quando Quango,
Ice-T,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dirtbombs,
The Real Kids,
Donald Byrd,
Juan Atkins,
Scrapy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Raincoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brand Nubian,
Sarah Menescal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Animal Collective,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Slackers,
The Seeds,
JFA,
The Doors,
The Pop Group,
Eric B and Rakim,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cal Tjader,
The Wake,
Joy Division,
Arcadia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
Lucky Dragons,
Bush Tetras,
Mandrill,
Yazoo,
The Fortunes,
Hardrive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Make Up,
Connie Case,
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Motions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Eating Sloth,
Television Personalities,
Sugar Minott,
Banda Bassotti,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Hot Snakes,
June of 44,
Ronnie Foster,
K-Klass,
Pierre Henry,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.