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 Ethiopia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Happenings to the jazz 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kas Product,
Shuggie Otis,
Camberwell Now,
Gang of Four,
Lower 48,
Pussy Galore,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mummies,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scratch Acid,
Tim Buckley,
The Residents,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Godley & Creme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Donald Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Alison Limerick,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sandy B,
EPMD,
Kaleidoscope,
ABC,
Zero Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Underground Resistance,
Marvin Gaye,
The Black Dice,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Names,
The Skatalites,
Cameo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Talk Talk,
Todd Rundgren,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rotary Connection,
The Alarm Clocks,
Piero Umiliani,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brass Construction,
Angry Samoans,
Average White Band,
Prince Buster,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Görl,
Toni Rubio,
The Fall,
Black Pus,
Siglo XX,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
T.S.O.L.,
China Crisis,
Massinfluence,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.