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 Bolivia and from Madrid.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Hong Kong.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Moby Grape,
Mission of Burma,
La Düsseldorf,
China Crisis,
Spoonie Gee,
Make Up,
Byron Stingily,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scion,
David Bowie,
Ronnie Foster,
Symarip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slick Rick,
Electric Prunes,
Excepter,
Japan,
Quando Quango,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Foxx,
Marc Almond,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Unwound,
Urselle,
Gerry Rafferty,
DJ Sneak,
Tom Boy,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Green,
The Count Five,
New York Dolls,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
Unrelated Segments,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Derrick Morgan,
Saccharine Trust,
Fluxion,
ABBA,
Slave,
Kurtis Blow,
Dawn Penn,
Quantec,
Goldenarms,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wally Richardson,
Vainqueur,
Bad Manners,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
The Leaves,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Don Cherry,
Black Moon,
Ohio Players,
Crash Course in Science,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.