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 Israel and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ohio Players 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Bar-Kays,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cymande,
Mission of Burma,
The Fire Engines,
Charles Mingus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ponytail,
Sight & Sound,
Wings,
Electric Prunes,
Anakelly,
Fatback Band,
Eddi Front,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
10cc,
Rufus Thomas,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pole,
the Human League,
The Barracudas,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scan 7,
Black Moon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masters at Work,
The Wake,
Black Pus,
Sun Ra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Symarip,
DJ Sneak,
Spoonie Gee,
Eli Mardock,
The Names,
Warsaw,
The Sonics,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monks,
Scrapy,
Rod Modell,
Cecil Taylor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Aswad,
Half Japanese,
D'Angelo,
Deakin,
Lakeside,
the Association,
Reagan Youth,
Ultravox,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.