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 Cape Verde and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Andrew Hill,
Bill Wells,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jacques Brel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hasil Adkins,
This Heat,
China Crisis,
Janne Schatter,
Toni Rubio,
Rosa Yemen,
Interpol,
Slick Rick,
Absolute Body Control,
Susan Cadogan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wally Richardson,
Ken Boothe,
Ice-T,
Pole,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pierre Henry,
David McCallum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeff Mills,
Rapeman,
Todd Rundgren,
The Pretty Things,
Grandmaster Flash,
Electric Prunes,
48th St. Collective,
Glambeats Corp.,
Smog,
Franke,
Scion,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chris Corsano,
Easy Going,
Magma,
Theoretical Girls,
Barry Ungar,
Unwound,
The Gories,
Stetsasonic,
Jawbox,
Colin Newman,
Suicide,
James White and The Blacks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Sheep,
Barrington Levy,
Zero Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lyres,
Simply Red,
Deepchord,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soulsonic Force,
Wire,
Bootsy Collins,
Roxy Music,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.