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 Rwanda and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ronnie Foster to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
AZ,
The Seeds,
Todd Rundgren,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New York Dolls,
The Music Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
The Barracudas,
Robert Görl,
Sister Nancy,
ABBA,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Human League,
John Holt,
Pantytec,
Flash Fearless,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Moon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fear,
Accadde A,
The Velvet Underground,
Funky Four + One,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alphaville,
Eddi Front,
Susan Cadogan,
Organ,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Modern Lovers,
The Knickerbockers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacob Miller,
Pylon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harry Pussy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott Heron,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boz Scaggs,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Five Americans,
kango's stein massive,
John Foxx,
The Fuzztones,
Cecil Taylor,
Smog,
Eve St. Jones,
The American Breed,
Tubeway Army,
the Slits,
These Immortal Souls,
Blake Baxter,
Cameo,
Tom Boy,
The Real Kids,
Black Sheep,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.