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 Kuwait and from Lyon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Last Poets to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
Visage,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marmalade,
Jimmy McGriff,
China Crisis,
Monolake,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Real Kids,
Procol Harum,
CMW,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Y Pants,
Organ,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Inner City,
Symarip,
Depeche Mode,
Harry Pussy,
Derrick May,
Reagan Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
Nas,
Warsaw,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pagans,
U.S. Maple,
ABBA,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Junior Murvin,
World's Most,
Connie Case,
The Smoke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deepchord,
Cluster,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lyres,
The Selecter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sight & Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Albert Ayler,
Scott Walker,
The Pop Group,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boz Scaggs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.