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 Morocco and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 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 Cowsills to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
The Residents,
Stetsasonic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crime,
Wasted Youth,
Radiohead,
Scientists,
The Blackbyrds,
Todd Terry,
The Birthday Party,
Half Japanese,
Soul II Soul,
Q and Not U,
Ten City,
Junior Murvin,
This Heat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Germs,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dirtbombs,
Anthony Braxton,
Kenny Larkin,
These Immortal Souls,
Simply Red,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Inner City,
F. McDonald,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ralphi Rosario,
Freddie Wadling,
X-101,
Steve Hackett,
Livin' Joy,
Stiv Bators,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cluster,
MC5,
Dawn Penn,
Shuggie Otis,
Lindisfarne,
Susan Cadogan,
Marmalade,
Jacob Miller,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blancmange,
Heaven 17,
Pagans,
U.S. Maple,
Judy Mowatt,
Lightning Bolt,
Oblivians,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
The Move,
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.