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 Egypt and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Coltrane to the rock 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Buckinghams,
Roxette,
Neu!,
Joensuu 1685,
Howard Jones,
Clear Light,
Henry Cow,
Soft Cell,
Masters at Work,
Sugar Minott,
Monolake,
Terrestrial Tones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roy Ayers,
the Slits,
Aswad,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Trojans,
The Blackbyrds,
The Vogues,
Delta 5,
Tim Buckley,
Jeru the Damaja,
Half Japanese,
Swans,
Alphaville,
Gabor Szabo,
Lakeside,
Mr. Review,
The Smiths,
Funky Four + One,
Pylon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hot Snakes,
KRS-One,
The New Christs,
Swell Maps,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dark Day,
UT,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bill Wells,
Davy DMX,
Soul II Soul,
Quando Quango,
Fear,
New Age Steppers,
Thompson Twins,
Skaos,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
The Walker Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
LL Cool J,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Archie Shepp,
Judy Mowatt,
Bob Dylan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.