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 Oman and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Gang Green,
Pierre Henry,
Little Man,
The Vogues,
Das Ding,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alison Limerick,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Almond,
The Zeros,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantytec,
Q65,
Minnie Riperton,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Human League,
Accadde A,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Görl,
Black Pus,
The Real Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sex Pistols,
the Normal,
Don Cherry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Residents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
L. Decosne,
Alphaville,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Panda Bear,
Bootsy Collins,
Michelle Simonal,
Quantec,
World's Most,
One Last Wish,
The Count Five,
Motorama,
Avey Tare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Saints,
Dave Gahan,
Roy Ayers,
U.S. Maple,
ABC,
Camberwell Now,
David Axelrod,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Junior Murvin,
Chris & Cosey,
Los Fastidios,
The Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.