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 Equatorial Guinea and from London.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Nirvana to the rap 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fear,
Nico,
Goldenarms,
Ten City,
Kurtis Blow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ponytail,
Newcleus,
X-101,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Howard Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
June of 44,
Cybotron,
Anthony Braxton,
Junior Murvin,
The Grass Roots,
New York Dolls,
Ice-T,
The Misunderstood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cure,
Hashim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eve St. Jones,
Inner City,
Sarah Menescal,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Blues Magoos,
X-Ray Spex,
Ronan,
Spoonie Gee,
Clear Light,
Tears for Fears,
Oneida,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Circle Jerks,
Andrew Hill,
Black Flag,
Livin' Joy,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Underground Resistance,
The Angels of Light,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vainqueur,
Leonard Cohen,
Bill Near,
Lalann,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Thompson Twins,
Flipper,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonic Youth,
Little Man,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.