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 Uzbekistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Deadbeat to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Jacques Brel,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Yusef Lateef,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
Funky Four + One,
Soul II Soul,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sound,
Duran Duran,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bush Tetras,
U.S. Maple,
Hardrive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marmalade,
Kayak,
Steve Hackett,
Excepter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Alphaville,
Eric Dolphy,
Half Japanese,
Ultravox,
Max Romeo,
Little Man,
X-101,
Roy Ayers,
Tim Buckley,
New York Dolls,
Barry Ungar,
Jerry's Kids,
Cheater Slicks,
The Techniques,
Eric Copeland,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rapeman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Laurel Aitken,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Glenn Branca,
Maurizio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harmonia,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Hood,
PIL,
Bill Wells,
Isaac Hayes,
Scientists,
The Count Five,
Eddi Front,
Dawn Penn,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.