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 Nicaragua and from New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Heaven 17 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scan 7,
Robert Hood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABC,
Vladislav Delay,
Prince Buster,
Metal Thangz,
Agent Orange,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mantronix,
Lindisfarne,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Martian,
Audionom,
Wings,
Oneida,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bluetip,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Avey Tare,
Animal Collective,
Moby Grape,
Marine Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Matthew Halsall,
Mad Mike,
Khruangbin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mo-Dettes,
Donald Byrd,
The Modern Lovers,
Idris Muhammad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Simply Red,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Germs,
Joensuu 1685,
The Trojans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Freddie Wadling,
Mission of Burma,
Pantytec,
Big Daddy Kane,
Siglo XX,
Porter Ricks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
The Cowsills,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Near,
Ludus,
Slave,
Sister Nancy,
The Pop Group,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terrestrial Tones,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.